■<fc  V     A-'*       '.aJ^.'V.^^i 


'.-.■.^y-'My '<•■-<»' 


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PERKINS  LIBRARY 

DuUe   University 


Kare  Dooks 


uunriAM,   m.  v^> 
1903 


Gift  of  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Dred  Peacock 


h        MASTEE 


tm 


wnxiAi 


I'.v  Tin: 


AITTJIOR  OF  <*GE011GTA  «OF.'XJ":>^  ' 


BUKKEw  BOYKIN  *  COMPANy'. 


■^4§^^^e^~israf^ 


MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN: 


OR, 


A  YOUTH  OF  BllILLIANT  TALENTS, 


WHO  WAS 


IiUi:N^Ji]0     BY    BAD    LUCK. 


UY    THK 


AUTHOIl    OF    "OEORGIA    SCENES." 


t- 

MACON,    GA.: 

^  BURKE,    BOYKIN    &    COMPANY. 

1864. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 

BURKE,  BOYKIN  &  CO., 
In   the   Clerk's   Office,-  of  the   Southern   District  of  Georgia. 


BUEKJB,  ftoTKIN    A  CO.,    BOOK    AUD   JOB   rRINTRRB,   MACOK,   GA. 


I 


f 


I'O 


DOCTOR     I^EISTRY    HULL, 


ATHENS,     OEORGJ^IA. 


ALLOAV     ME,     MT     HIGHLY     ESTEEMED     FRIEND, 


IN.SCIUBF,    THIS    UNTUKTI -.NDINti   VOI.UMH   TO   YOIT. 


YOU    WILL   AIM'RECIATE   THE    TNSCKIPTION 


THE  SPIRIT  WHICH  DICTATES  IT,  AND  KOT  BY  THE  MERIT  OF  TlIK  WOKK. 

THE    AUTHOR. 


PREFACE. 


In  1849,  I  resided  for  a  few  raorUhs  in  Jackson,  Louisiana.  During  my. 
sojourn  in  tliat  place,  two  meritorious  young  men,  who  bad  established  a 
Press  in  tlio  villaj;e,  earnestly  solicited  me  to  write  for  it.  I  agreed  to  do 
so;  and  as  a  Colle,£ie  and  a  number  of  admirable  schools  graced  the  village, 
I  framed  the  story  of  Master  Mitten,  to  induce  the  youth  of  ihe  place,  to 
imprevo  tiie  opportunities  which  these  institutions  afforded  them  of  becoming 
useful  and  distinguished  men.  Master  Mii'ten  an^  his  mother,  are  both 
imaginary  characters ;  but  who  that  has  had  much  to  do  with  the  instruction 
of  3'outh,  has  not  .seen  both,  at  least  in  their  leading  traits  ? 

I  I-AID  the  scone  of  the  story  in  (jeorgia,  and  took  the  liberty  of  intro- 
ducing into  it,  the  names  of  several  of  my  (ieorgiau  friends,  giving  a  yery 
slight  touch  of  Uieir  characters  in  tlio  conduct  and  language  which  I  ascribe 
to  them.  I'hh  I  did,  to  increase  the  interest  of  the  story  to  them  at  leaat, 
.should  it  ever  reach  the  .State  of  Georgia.  1  deem  it  proper  to  mention 
these  things,  for  the  story  having  been  broken  off  at  the  fifth  chapter,  by 
my  departure  from  Louisiana,  when  it  was  resumed  in  Georgia,  fof  the 
J-'lelii  »f.'  Fire-side.  Many  finding  ihe.se  names  in  it,  with  ?ome  of  the  char- 
acteristics' of  those  who  boro  them,  supposed  it  to  be  a  veritable  history, 
Avhicli  it  is  not.  Master  Mitten  is  introduced  to  Doctor  "Waddtel's  celebrated 
School. in  Willffigton,  Abbeville  District,  South  Carolina,  just  as  it  was,  from 
1S06  to  1800,  inclusive.  Spraguk  has  given  us  a  Ijrief  skctcli  of  the  Doctor's 
biography,  in  which  his  merits  as  a  Teacher  and  a  Divine  are  gravely  por- 
trayed. MiTTKN  shows  the  reader  tlie  man  at  the  head  of  his  .school  in  ita 
pa'mic-iJt  days. 


MASTER  WIJJ  JAM  MITTEN; 

OR, 

A  YOUTH  OF   BRILLIANT   TALENTS,   WHO   WAS 
RUINED   BY   BAD   LUCK. 


CHAPTKR  I. 

Many  years  ago  there  lived  in  a  small  village  in  the  State  of 
Greorgia,  a  pious  widow,  who  was  left  with  an  only  son  and  two 
daug^^te^s.  She  was  in  easy  circumstances,  and  managed  her  tem- 
poral concerns  with  great  prudence;  so  that  her  estate  increased  with 
her  years.  Her  son  exhibited,  at  a  very  early  age,  great  precocity 
of  genius,  and  the  mother  lost  no  opportunity  of  letting  the  world 
know  it.  AVhen  he  was  but  six  years  old,  he  had  committed  little 
pieces  in  prose  and  poetry,  which  be  delivered  with  remarkable  pro- 
priety for  bis  years.  He  knew  as  much  of  the  scriptures  as  any 
child  of  that  age  probably  ever  knew;  and  he  had  already  made 
some  progress  in  geography  and  mental  arithmetic.  With  all  this, 
he  was  a  very  handsome  boy.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  his 
mother  should  be  bringing  him  out  in  some  department  of  science, 
upon  all  occasions ;  of  course,  she  often  brought  him  out  upon  very 
unsuitable  occasions,  and  sometimes  kept  him  out,  greatly  to  the 
annoyance  of  her  company.  Not  to  praise  his  performances,  would 
have  been  discouraging  to  Master  William  Mitten,  and  very  morti- 
fying to  his  mother;  accordingly,  whether  they  were  wjell-timed  or 
ill-timed,  everybody  praised  them.  The  ladies,  all  of  whom  loved 
Mrs.  Mitten,  were  not  unfrequently  thrown  into  raptures  at  the 
child's  exhibitions.  They  would  snatch  him  up  in  their  arm.s,  kiss 
him,  pronounce  him  a  perfect  prodigy,  both  in  beauty  of  person  and 
power  of  mind  ;  and  declare  that  they  would  be  willing  to  go  beg- 
gars upon  the  world  to  have  such  a  child.  Others  would  piously 
exhort  Mrs.  JMitten  not  to  set  her  heart  too  much  upon  the  child. 
*'  They  never  saw  the  little  creature,  without  commingled  emotiona 
of  delight  and  alarm  ;  so  often  is  it  the  case  that   children  of  such 

B 


6  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

wonderful  gifts  die  early."  Her  brother,  Capt.  David  Thomson,  a 
candid,  plain-dealing  excellent  man,  often  reproved  Mrs  M.  for  jpp,- 
radinij,  as  he  called  it,   *'  her  child  upon  all  occasions." 

'^  Anna,"  said  he,  "  you  will  stuff  your  child  so  full  of  pride  and 
vanity,  and  make  him  so  pert  and  forward  that  there  will  be  no 
living  with  him.  From  an  objsjct  of  adiiiiration  he  will  soon  become 
an  object  of  detestation."' 

"No  danger,  brother — no  danger;"  she  would  reply,  "I  take 
special  care  to  guard  him  against  these  vices." 

At  eight  years  of  age,  William  was  placed  under  the  instriietiou 
of  Miss  Smith,  the  teacher  of  a  female  school,  into  which  small  boys 
were  admitted  by  courtesy.^  Here  he  contiuued  until  his  tenth  year, 
when  Miss\Smith  told  his  mother  that  he  was  getting  too  old  to  remain 
in  her  school,  and  that  she  could  keep  him  no  longer.  Here  Miss 
Smith  whispered  something  to  Mrs.  Mitten  which  drew  a  smile  from 
her,  but  which  has  ever  remained  a  secret  between  them.  It  took 
about  the  time  to  deliver  it,  that  it  would  take  to  say  :  ''  the  truth. 
is,  he  is  too  pretty  and  too  smart  to  be  in  a  female  school." 

William  being  now  out  of  employment,  his  mother  took  six  months 
to  deliberate  as  to  what  was  next  to  be  done  with  him ;  and  in  the 
meantime  she  sent  him  in  the  country  to  stay  with  his  grandmother- 
On  his  return  she  determined  to  place  him  under  the  tuition  of  Mr. 
Markham,  one  of  the  best  of  men,  and  best  of  instructors.  Accord- 
ingly, she  conducted  him  to  the  school  room  of  his  second  pre- 
ceptor. 

"You  will  find  him,  Mr.  Markham,"  said  Mrs,  M.,  as  she  de- 
livered over  her  son  to  the  teacher's  charge,  "  easy  to  lead  but  hard 
to  drive." 

"■  If  that  be  the  case,  Madam,"  said  Mr.  Markham,  "  I  fear  that 
your  son  will  not  do  well  under  my  government." 

"Why,  surely,  Mr.  Markham,  you  don't  prefer  driving  to  leading." 

"  By  no  means.  Madam — by  no  means.  I  much  prefer  leading; 
but  no  child  of  his  age  can  be  always  led.  Withal,  a  teacher  must 
goveruj  by  fixed  rules,  which  cannot  be  relaxed  in  favor  of  one  of 
his  pupils,  without  rendering  them  worthless,  or  unjust  to  all 
the  rest." 

This  took  Mrs.  Mittan  a  little  by  surprise ;  for  she  supposed  that 
Mr.  Markham  would  be  proud  of  such  an  accession  to  his  school  as 
William.  She  acquiesced,  however,  in  the  soundness  of  his  views ; 
but  flattering  herself  "  that  he  would  never  find  it  necessary  to 
drive  William,"  fehe  turned  him  over  to  the  teacher  and  withdrew. 


PIASTER   WILLIAM   MITTiiN.  7 

William  made  his  debut  at  school  in  a  dress  which  was  rather 
tawdry  for  Sunday,  and  extravagant  for  the  school-roora.  The  first  ten 
or  fifteen  minutes  were  spent  by  William  and  the  school  boys  in  inter- 
changing looks  of  admiration,  which  Mr.  ^larkham  indulged,  under 
pretence  of  not  ob!<crv:ng.  At  length  a  pretty  general  titter  began 
to  run  through  the  school  at  William's  expense.  Mr.  Markham  now 
interposed,  with  a  sternness  that  instantly  brought  all  to  order  but 
William,  who  tittered  in  turn,  at  divers  persons  and  things.  But 
this  Mr.  Markham  haj^pcned  not  to  notice.  The  object  of  William's 
special  regards  and  amusement  was  -lohn  Brown,  whose  clothes 
seemed  to  have  been  made  of  remnants  of  old  bed-quilts,  so  numer- 
ous and  party-colored  were  their  patches.  John's  attitnde  was  sls 
curious  as  his  dress ;  he  seemed  to  have  derived  it  from  the  neck  of 
a  crane  at  rest.  His  head  was  flat  and  bushy,  his  feet  were  large 
and  black,  and  his  face  bore  a  marked  resemblance  to  that  of  a 
leather-winged  bat.  [n  all  his  life,  AVilliam  had  never  seen  exactly 
such  a  thing  as  this  ;  and  he  laughed  at  it,  without  stint  and  without 
disguise.  John  soon  became  indignant,  and  raising  his  book  be- 
tween his  face  and  the  teacher,  he  set  his  mouth  to  going  as  if  re- 
peating all  the  vowels  and  consonants  of  the  alphabet  in  quick  time, 
and  shook  his  fist  at  William  with  a  quiver  of  awful  portent.  Ac- 
cording to  the  mason  I  y  of  the  school-room  these  signs  meant ; 
"  Never  mind,  old-feUov:,  soon  as  school's  out  I'll  make  yoxi  latigh 
C other  side  of  the  mo7ith.'" 

"  (^me  here,  sir,"  said  Markham  who  always  saw  more  than  he 
seemed  to  see.     "Who  are  you  shaking  your  fist  at,  sir  ?" 

'<  Mr.  Markham,  that  fellow  keeps  laughing  at  me,  sir." 

"  And  did'nt  you  laugh  at  him  first  ?" 

"  I — I— laughed  at  him  a  little  bit ;  but  he  keeps  at  it  all  the 
time."  lie  don't  do  nothin'  else  but  keep'n'  on  laughin'  at  me  all 
the  time." 

,"  Well,  if  you  laugh  at  other  people,  you  must  lef;  them  laugh  at 
you ;  and  now,  sir,  go  to  your  seat ;  and  if  I  catch  you  shaking 
your  fist  at  anybody  in  school  hours  again,  or  usint/  it  upon  anybody 
a/fcnrards,  who  has  only  paid  laugh  with  laugh,  I'll  shake  you." 

There  was  a  little  spice  of  equity  here,  that  John  had  entirely 
overlooked  :  and  he  wont  to  his  seat  much  cooler  than  might  have 
been  expected. 

''Come  here,  William!"  continued  the  preceptor.  William  did 
not  move ;  and  the  whole  school  was  electrified  at  disobedieuoe  to 
Mr.  Markham's  orders. 


8  MASTER    WILLIAM  MirTEN. 

"  Come  here,  William  I"  repeated  Mr.  Markham  but  with  no  bet^ 
ter  success.  Whereupon  he  rose,  and  commenced  "  leading  "  him, 
in  quick  time,  to  his  seat.  Having  stationed  him  by  it  he  said  to 
him  :  "  William  1  know  you  have  been  indulged  so  much  that  you 
hardly  know  the  duty  of  submission  to  your  teacher's  orders,  or  I 
would  correct  you  for  not  coming  to  me  when  I  called  you.  You 
must  do  as  I  tell  you;  and  I  tell  you  now  to  quit  laughing  and  get 
your  lesson — t/ou,  John  Brown,  are  you  tittering  again  already  ? 
Put  down  your  feet  and  come  here,  sir  I"  Here  Mr.  3Iarkham,  by 
way  of  parenthesis,  gave  John  three  cuts,  which  sounded  like  a 
whip-poor-will,  and  made  him  dance  a  jig,  a  minuet  and  a  polka  all 
in  less  than  a  minute.  He  retired,  crying,  knd  limping  and  rubbing 
and  shaking  his  bushy  head  like  a  muscovy  drake  in  a  pet ;  and  Mr. 
Markham  proceeded :  "  I  tell  you,  William,  you  must  obey  me  " — 
"Yes,  sir,"  said  William,  pale  as  a  sheet, 

"  I  can  have  no  little  boys  with  me  who  won't  do  as  I  tell  them" — • 
"  No,  sir." 

"  If  you  will  be  a  good  boy,  and  mind  your  book  and  your  teacher, 
you  need  not  be  afraid  of  me.  Go  now  and  take  your  seat  and  quit 
laughing  and  get  your  lesson." 

Williatn  obeyed  promptly,  and  hardly  took  his  eyes  from  his  book 
until  the  school  was  dismissed. 

During  the  recess  he  begged  his  mother  to  take  him  away  from 
Mr.  Markham's  school.  He  said  Mr.  Markham  whipt  his  scholars, 
and  he  "  didn't  want  to  go  to  a  man  that  whipt  children." 

"  But,"  said  his  mother,  "  you  must  be  a  good  boy,  and  then  he 
will  not  whip  you.  I've  entered  you  now,  and  paid  your  first  quar- 
ter's schooling,  and  you  must  go  to  the  end  of  the  quarter." 

William   returned  to   school,   and  for  several  weeks  did  remark. 

ably  well.     He  was  put  in  a  class  with  George  Markham,  son  of  the 

preceptor,  a  promising  youth,   but  equal  to  William  in  nothing  but 

attention  to  his  studies.     As  "V^illiam  could  get  his  lessons  in  half 

the  time  allowed  him  for  this  purpose,  he  soon  began  to  neglect  them, 

until  the  last  moment  from  which  he  could  commit  them,  and  then 

to  some  time  beyond  the  moment ;  and  here  was  the  beginning   of 

his  bad  luck.     As  he   grew   remiss,  Mr.  Markham  counseled  him, 

lectured  him,    and   threatened  him ;   but   all   to  no   purpose.     At 

length  he  told  him  that  the  next  time   he  came  to   recite  without 

knowing  bis  lesson,  he  would  correct  him.     This  alarmed  William  ft 

good  deal ;  but  not  quite  enough  to  stimulate  his  industry  to  con> 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  9 

tinued  exertion  ;  and  after  ten  or  fifteen  lessons  he  came  up  deficient 
again. 

'*  Why  have  you  not  got  this  lesson,  sir  ?"  said  Mr.  Markham 
with  terrific  sternness. 

"  I — I — was  sick,  sir  !" 

This  was  William's  first  falsehood  ;  but  it  saved  him  from  a  whip- 
ping which  he  awfully  dreaded ;  for  though  Mr.  Markham  knew 
that  he  had  not  told  the  truth,  he  deemed  it  best  to  admit  the  ex- 
cuse, at  least  so  far  as  to  withhold  the  rod  of  correction  for  the 
present. 

As  he  dismissed  the  school,  he  told  William  to  remain  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  when  they  were  alone  he  thus  addressed  him  : 

"  William,  I  very  much  fear  you  told  me  a  falsehood  to-day.  I 
saw  you  all  the  morning  before  you  came  to  recite,  idling,  and 
whispering,  without  any  appearance  of  sickness;  and  since  the  recita- 
tion, I  have  seen  no  sign  of  sickness  about  you.  Still  I  may  possibly 
be  mistaken,  and  I  hope  I  am ;  but  remember,  if  ever  I  find  you 
telling  a  lie  to  hide  your  faults,  I  will  punish  you  more  severely  than 
I  would  without  the  lie."  He  then  proceeded  to  counsePhim  kindly 
and  affectionately  against  the  danger  of  lying. 

William  went  home  in  sadness  and  in  tears,  for  his  conscience  gave 
him  no  rest.  His  mother  sought  in  vain  for  the  cause  of  his  distress. 
The  next  day  he  went  to  the  school  and  acquitted  himself  well  for 
that  and  the  four  sncceeding  days,  for  which  Mr.  ]\Iarkham  gave  him 
great  credit  and  encouragement.  On  the  fifth  day  he  got  permission 
to  go  out,  and  as  he  remained  out  an  unusually  long  time,  Mr.  M. 
went  in  quest  of  him,  and  found  him  in  the  act  of  concealing  his 
book  among  some  rubbish  near  the  school  house.  He  wlis  unob- 
served by  William,  and  he  withdrew  to  the  school  room.  Just  before 
the  recitation  hour  William  made  his  appearance.  What  he  had 
been  doing  during  his  absence,  was  not  known  ;  but  that  he  had  not 
been  studying  was  manifest  from  his  conduct,  and  still  more  manifest 
from  his  ignorance  of  the  lesson  when  he  came  to  recite. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing,  William,"  said  Mr.  Markham,  "  that 
you  know  nothing  of  this  lesson  ?" 

"  I  lost  my  book,  sir,  and  I  couldn't  find  it." 

Mr.  Markham  passed  the  matter  over  until  he  dismissed  his  school, 
when  he  detained  William,  told  him  where  his  book  was,  repeated 
his  lecture  upon  lying,  and  enforced  it  with  a  pretty  severe  flogging. 
William  had  never  experienced  the  Jike  of  that  before,  and  probably 
would  never  have  experienced  it  again,  but  for  the  imprudence  of  his 


10  MASTER  WILLIAM    MITTEX. 

mother  and. her  friends.  He  .promised  his  preceptor  that  he  would 
never  repeat  his  offence  j  and  he  went  home  with  a  countenance  and 
manner,  indicative  of  a  lixe,4  purpose  to  keep  his  promise.  He  told 
his  mother  nothing  of  what  had  happened,  nor  did  she  find  it  out  for 
four  days  afterwards.  In  the  meantime,  William  was  all  that  she  or 
hia  preceptor  could  wish  him  to  be.  It  so  happened,  however,  that 
Thomas  Nokes  had  lingered  about  the  school-house,  and  seen  all 
that  had  transpired  between  William  and  his  teacher.  He  went 
home  where  he  found  Mrs.  Glib,  one  of  Mrs.  Mitten's  most  devoted 
friends^ — as  she  proved  by  carrying  to  her  all  news  that  was  likely  to 
affect  her  peace.  Mrs.  G.  had  stopped  on  her  way  to  her  brother's 
in  the  country,  to  bid  Mrs.  Nokes  farewell,  and  had  actually  risen. to 
depart,  when  Tom  stept  in,  big  with  the  events  of  the  day. 

"  I  tell  you,  what  I"  said  he,  "  Mr.  Markham  give  Bill  Mitten 
Jomm  to-day  I" 

"  It  isn't  possible,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Glib,  "  that  Mr.  Markham  has 
whipt  that  dear,  sweet,  lovely  boy." 

Mrs.  Nokes  tried  to  catch  Tom's  eye,  that  she  might  st'  p  him  ; 
but  his  whole  attention  was  directed  to  Mrs.  G.  and  he  went  on — 

"  Yes  he  did — and  he  linked  it  into  him  like  flugins.  I'll  be 
bound  he  made  the  blood  come." 

Here  Tom  caught  his  mother's  eye,  which  was  darting  lightnings 
at  him,  and  he  concluded,  "  but  J.  don't  reckon  he  hurt  him  much 
though  !" 

"  Oh,  the  brute  !"  muttered  Mrs.  Glib,  aa  she  left  the  house  for 
the  carriage. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth  day  from  her  departure,  she  re- 
turned to  the  village,  and  immediately  hastened  over  to  Mrs.  Mit- 
ten's. Mrs.  M.  met  her  at  the  door  very  cheerfully  and  very 
cordially. 

"Oh,"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Glib,  "how  happy  I  am  to  find  you  so 
cheerful!     I  was  afraid   I  should  find  you  in" tears." 

"In  tears!     For  what?" 

'*Why,  for  the  unmerciful  beating  which  Mr.  Markham  gave  to 
your  dear,  sweet,  lovely  little  Williamj  last  Friday." 

"  Surely  there  must  be  some  mistake  Mrs.  Glib.  William  never 
saidji  word  to  me  about  it  :  and  not  fifteen  minutes  before  you  came 
.in,  Mr.  Markham  was  here  congratulating  me  on  the  progress  my 
child  was.  making  in  everything  that  was  good." 

Here  Mrs.  G.  looked  as  if  she  had  taken  an  emetic  which  was 
just  about  to  operate  ;  and  after  a  short  pause  she  proceeded  : 


Master   william  ahtten.  11 

"Well.  I  liopo  it  is  a'  mistake  ;  but  it  came  to  me  from  au  eye 
witness.  Vou  knnw  i  don't  send  mi/  chililren  to  Mr.  ^[arkham  ;  be- 
cause I  don't  choose  to  have  my  children  cut  and  slashed  about  like  gal- 
ley-slaves, for  every  little  childish  error  they  commit — breaking  down 
their  spirit,  and  teaching  them  sneaking  and  lying,  and  everything 
that's  low  and  mean.  Mr.  Toper  never  whips  j  and  I  don't  see  but 
that  mj  cliihh-en  get  along  under  him  as  well  as  other  people's  chil- 
dren." (Here  Mrs.  M.  covered  her  face  with  her  handkerchief, 
either  to  hide  her  grief,  or  a  smile  which  grief  could  not  extinguish, 
or  blushes  of  conscience;  for  she  had  warned  her  son  against  ever 
associating  with  the  (Uibs.)  "  But  you  know  how  strict  Mrs.  Nokes 
is  with  her  children  ;  one  of  them  would  as  soon  put  his  head  in  the 
lire  as  tell  a  lie — specially  before  her.  Well,  Thomas  told  mc,  right 
in  her  presence,  that  Mnrkham  whipt  William  till  he  drew  the  blood 
from   him  !'' 

"  Mercy  on  me  I"  groaned  Mrs.  ?Jitten,  '*  why  didn't  William  tell 
me  of  it!" 

"  01}(,  that  is  easily  accounted  for.  My  (Icorgo  WashiugtoH. 
Alexander  Augustus  says  that  John  Brown  told  him,  that  '  if  any- 
body went  to  carrying  tales  out  of  IVIr,  3Iarkham's  school,  he'd 
make'em  dance _/»ta.'  Poor  William  dare  not  tell  of  it.  John  said, 
moreover,  that  Markham  dragged  liim  from  his  seat  the  first  day  that 
he  went  to  school,  and  would  have  whipt  him  then,  if  he  had  been 
in  school  a  little  longer." 

"  I  fear,"  said  Mrs.  Mitten  with  streaming  eyes,  "  that  I  offended 
Mr.  ]Markham  when  I  placed  William  under  him,  by  telling  him 
that  William  was  easy  to  hod  but  hard  to  drive.  He  immediately 
showed  some  reluctance  at  receiving  him.  But  1  only  meant  to  ap- 
prise him  of  the  child's  disposition.  Poor  child,  with  all  his  talents, 
T  fear  he  is  doomed  to  had  luck." 

"  Oh,  no,  madam  ;  1  can  explain  the  matter  better  thaji  that, 
George  Markham  was  given  up  on  all  hands  to  be  the  smartest  boy 
in  school.  Now  everybody  knew  what  a  prodigy  William  was;  and 
old' Markham  knew  that  as  soon  as  William  entered  the  school,  his 
hj  loved  darlinrj,  jtrecions  (icorrje,  would  have  to  come  down  a  notch. 
All  the  boys  say  thijt  William  is  smarter  than  George,  •mi  yet  that 
old  Markham  is  always  pecking  at  him.  Who  can't  see  the  reason?" 
Just  at  this  moment  William  made  his  appenrancc  with  a  bright 
and  joyous  face;  and  holding  up  a  most  beautiful  edition  of  Sanford 
and  Merton.  '•  See,  ma,"  said  he,  "  wlmt  ]\Ir.  Markham  gave  me 
to-day  for  keeping  head  of  George  three  days.     And  he  says  if  I'll 


12  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

keep  head  of  him  eight  days  more,  he'll  give  me  a  book  worth  twice 
as  much,  and  I  mean  to  do  it  too." 

"  What  hypocrisy  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Glib.  "  He's  got  wind 
of  it  I" 

"  William/'  said  his  mother,  "  did  Mr.  Markham  whip  yon  last 
Friday  ?''     In  an  instant  his  countenance  fell,  and  his  eyes  filled. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  whispered  William.  "  But  I  don't  think-  he  will 
whip  me  again,  for  I  mean  to  be  a  good  boy." 

"Poor,  blessed,  little  innocent  angel-Iamb!"  sighed  forth  Mrs.  G. 
with  honest  sympathy. 

"  And  haven't  you  always  been  a  good  boy,  my  son  ?" 

"  Ye-e-s  m'm." 
'     "  Then  what  did  he  whip  you  for  ?" 

"  He  said  I  told  a  lie,  and  wouldn't  get  my  lesson  !'' 

"  Oh,  shocking,  shockiDg — worse  and  worse  !"  vociferated  Mrs. 
Glib.  "  I'd  stake  my  salvation  on  it,  that  child  never  told  an  un- 
truth in  all  his  life." 

It  was  very  unlucky  for  William,  that  3Irs.  G.  made  this  remark ; 
and  still  more  unlucky  that  his  mother  did  not' suspend  her  examina- 
tion here,  until  Mrs.  G.  retired. 

'•  William,  it  would  break  my  heart  to  discover  that  you  had  told  a 
lie ;  but  if  you  have  told  one,  confess  it,  my  child,  to  your  mother!" 

William  paused  and  pondered,  as  well  he  might ;  for  having  Mrs. 
Glib's  salvation  and  his  mother's  heart  in  one  eye,  and  Mr.  Mark- 
ham's  awful  lie-physic  in  the  other,  he  was  in  a  most  perplexing  di- 
lemma. 

•'  Don't  you  see,  3Irs.  Mitten,  that  the  child  is  actually  afraid  to 
deny  that  he  told  a  lie  ?  He  knows  that  if  it  gets  to  Markham's 
ears  that  he  denied  it,  he'd  beat  hiiu  to  death.  Didn't  he  whip  yott 
very  severely,  William  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"Where  did  he  whip  you?" 

"  On  the  calf  of  my  legs." 

•'  Well,  now,  do  let  us  examine  them  !  I  lay  the  marks  of  the 
whip  are  upon  them  to  this  day." 

William's  pants  were  rolled  up,  and  at  the  first  glance,  his  legs 
seemed  as  white- and  as  spotless  as  pure  alabaster.  But  a  glance  did 
Bot  satisfy  Mrs.  Glib.  She  was  confident  that  William  had  received 
"jorwOT,"  and  that  marks  of  it  might  yet  be  found.  Accordingly, 
she  put  on  her  specs  and  squatted  down  to  a  close  examination  of 
William's  legs,  beginning  at  the  left." 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  13 

"  Look  here,  Mrs.  Mitten,"  said  she,  after  a  short  search,  "  isn't 
this  the  mark  of  a  whip  ?" 

"N-no,"  said  Mrs.  M.  carelessly,  '*  I  believe  it's  nothing  but  a 
Tein." 

"  It's  no  vein,  my  word  for  it ;  it's  too  straight  for  a  vein.  I'm 
told  that  whip-marks,  just  before  they  disappear,  can  hardly  be  dis- 
tinguished from  veins."         • 

Proceeding  from  the  left  leg  to  the  right,  she  examined  for  some  time 
with  no  better  success.  At  length,  however,  on  the  right  side  of  the 
limb,  she  found  the  pjilpable  marks  of  *' Jorum."  For  reasons  that 
need  not  be  given,  I  hold  myself  perfectly  competent  to  explain  this 
matter  with  unquestionable  accuracy.  Jorum  is  always  administered 
with  a  scarificator ;  and  in  receiving  it,  it  is  almost  impossible  for  the 
patient  to  keep  his  legs  still.  The  consequence  sometimes  is,  that 
the  scarificator,  which  is  made  and  intended  to  act  simultaneously 
and  equally  upon  both  limbs  hardly  scratches  one,  while  it  spends  all 
its  force  (double  force)  upon  the  other.  William  had  obviously 
'•'  danced  juba  "  under  the  operation,  and  in  three  of  his  movements 
he  had  so  distracted  the  instrument,  that  the  end  of  it  pressed  much 
harder  upon  the  flesh  in  these  places  thain  the  operator  intendea,  and 
of  course  it  left  its  most  permanent  mark  where  it  pressed  hardest. 
Xor  is  it  true,  as  Mrs.  Glib  was  informed,  that  its  mark  retire  in  like- 
ness to  a  vein,  but  with  a  greenish,  straw-color,  as  the  case  before  her 
proved. 

Mrs.  Glib  had  no  sooner  discovered  these  marks,  than  she  went 
through  divers  evolutions  of  horror,  better  suited  to  the  Inquisition 
than  to'this  occasion.  At  length  she  became  composed  enough  to 
speak. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Mitten,  see  what  your  dear  lovely,  brilliant  boy  has 
suffered.     Think  of  when  it  was  done  !" 

Mrs.  Mitten  looked  and  burst  into  tears  afresh.  Just  at  this  point 
her  daughters  made  their  appearance,  and  the  matter  being  explained 
to  them  they  burst  into  tears ;  and  William  seeing  his  mother  and 
sisters  weeping,  he  burst  into  tears.  In  the  midst  of  this  affecting 
Bceno,  David  Thompson,  Mrs.  Mitten's  brother,  made  his  appearance, 
and  he  didn't  burst  into  tears. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter — what's  to  pay  ?"  enquired  he,  with  no 
little  alarm. 

The  ladies  all  answered  at  once,  with  different  degrees  of  exagger- 
ation, but  all  to  the  same  point,  namely,  that  Markham  had  beaten 
William  most  unmercifully. 


14:  MASTER    WILLIAM   MIITEN. 

"Why-j  nothing  seems  to  be  the  matter  with  him  that  I  can  see."- 

"Look  at  his  legs  !" 

"  Well,  I  see  nothing  the  matter  with  his  legs.'^ 

''  Look  at  his  right  leg." 

"Well,  I  see  nothing  the  matter  with  his  right  leg," 

"  Look  on  the  right  side  of  his  right  leg." 

"Well,!  see  nothing  on  the  right  side  of  the  right  leg." 

"  Look  here,  Mr.  Thompson,"  said  Mrs.  Glib — "  bend  down  a  little 
— do  you  see  these  marks  ?" 

"  Psh-e-e-e-t!  Why  surely  you  have  all  run  crazy  !  Is  it  possible 
you're  making  all  this  fuss  over  these  three  little  specks?" 

"  Those  specks  as  you  call  them,  brother,  are  the  remains  of  what 
was  put  on  my  child's  tender  flesh /oiir  days  ago." 

"  And  have  you  all  just  made  up  your  minds  to  cry  about  it  I" 

"  We  did  ndt  know  of  it,  brother  David,  before." 

"  Why,  didn't  William  tell  you  of  it  V 

-'  No,  poor  child,  he  hardly  dare  talk  about  it  now.  He  is  com- 
pletely cowed.  Since  he  went  to  school  he  seems  to  have  been 
buried;  nobody  notices  or  *eaks  of  the  child  any  more  than  if  he 
were  dead." 

"  Yes,  there  it  is  I  you  have  been  feasting  upon  his  praises  so 
long,  that  you  cannot  live  without  them.  What  did  Markham  whip 
him  for?" 

"  The  charge  was,  telling  a  lie,  and  neglecting  his  lessons." 

"  Well,  are  you  sure  he  did  not  tell  a  lie  V 

"  Oh,  brother,  how  can  you  ask  such  a  question  right  before  the 
child's  face  !  'Yes,  I'm  just  as  sure  of  it  as  I  can  be  of  anything. 
I  never  detected  William  in  a  lie  in  all  my  life." 

"  No,  nor  you  never  will,  the  way  you're  going  on,  if  he  told  a 
thousand.  Now,  if  Markham  whipt  him  for  lying,  I  vouch  for  it  he 
told  a  lie,  and  Markham  knew  it ;  for  he  never  moves  without  seeing 
his  way  clear." 

"  I  think  he  has  a  prejudice  against  William,  and  I  think  I 
know  the  reason  of  it." 

"  Prejudice  1  He's  incapable  of  prejudice  against  anvbody,  much 
less  against  little  silly  childrenf  I'll  go  over  and  see  him  and  learn 
the  whole  truth  of  the  matter." 

",No,  you  needn't  trouble  yourself,  brother,  I  shall  not  send 
William  to  school  to  him  any  longer." 

"  Why,  Anna,  you  surely  are  not  going  to  take  your  child   from 


MASTER    WILLIAM   IMITTEX.  15 

school  without  hearing  from   Mr.  3Iarkham  the  particulars  of  this 
matter  ?" 

"  I  don't  want  any  particulars,  more  than  my  own  eyes  have  seen. 
Suppose  the  child  actually  did  tell  a  lie,  (which  nobody  who  knows 
him  will^believe)  it  wouldn't  justify  Mr.  Markham  in  beating  him  to 
death." 

'*  Beating  him  to  death  I     He's   certainly  a  very  natural  looking 
.  corpse  I     And  when  you  take  him  from  school,  what  are  you  going 
to  do  with  him  V  . 

"  I'd  rather  send' him  to  Mr.  Toper  than  have  him  cut  and  slashed 
to  pieces  by  Markham." 

"  Toper  I  what  that  drunken  booby  who  hardly  knows  B  from 
bull's  foot."' 

"  Good  morning,  ladies  !"  said  Mrs.  Glib — "  Good  morning, 
Captain  Thompson."     < 

"  Why,  brother  I  How  could  you  talk  so  of  Mr,  Toper  ?  Don't 
you  know  that  Mrs.  Glib  sends  her  children  to  him  y  She'll  go 
right  off  and  tell  him  what  you  said." 

"Xo,  1  don't  know,  nor  don't  care  where  she  sends  them.  All  I 
know  about  them  is,  that  Toper  is  a  drunken  fool,  and  that  her  chil- 
dren are  perfect  nuisances  to  the  town,  and  that  if  you  mean  to  send 
your  child  to  the  devil,  Toper  is  the  very  man  to  carry  him  for  you. 
Mrs.  Glib  may  tell  him  all  this  too,  if  she  chooses;  and  then  if  he 
opens  his  mouth  to  me  about  the  matter,  I'll  kick  him  out  of  the 
town,  as  a  public  charity." 

"■  I  only  said  I  had  ratli-er  send  my  child  to  Mr.  Toper  than  have 
him  beaten  so.     I  think  I  shall  employ  a  private  tutor." 

"  And  pay  ten  times  as  much  as  is  needful  for  your  child's  instruc- 
tion ;  and  then  have  him  not  half  as  well  taught,  as  he  will  be,  by 
Markham  I  Anna,  I  beseech,  you,  I  implore  you  for  your  child's 
sake,  don't  act  at  all  in  this  matter  under  your  present  feelings. 
Ijct  the  mafter  rest  until  I  can  see  Markham  and  learn  the  whole 
history  of  it.  1  know  more  of  boys  than  you  do.  They  do  many 
things  at  school  that  they  never  do  at  home,  for  the  plain  reason 
that  they  are  under  many  temptations  at  school  which  they  are  not 
under  at  home.  You  are  probably  now  at  the  turning  point  of 
your  child's  destiny,  and  a  false  step  here  may  ruin  him  forever." 

Strange  to  tell,  William  listened  to  his  uncle  with  a  kind  of  ap- 
proving amazement,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  conclud'ed,  said  : 

"  Ma,  I'm  willing  to  go  back  to  Mr,  Markham  now ;  I  a'nt  afraid 
of  him ;  I  don't  think  he'll  ever  whip  mo  again." 


16  MASTER    WILLIAM  MITTEN. 

"  That's  a  brave  boy,"  said  the  Captain.  "  Every  word  in  the 
sentence  is  worth  a  guinea.     No  good  boy  fears  Mr.  Markham." 

"  Ah,  poor  child  !"  said  Mrs.  Mitten — "  he  knows  little  of  the 
world's  duplicity.  He  little  dreams  of  the  undercurrent  that  is  at 
work  against  him." 

"  What  undercurrent  ?  Is  it  possible,  Anna,  that  after  nine  years 
acquaintance  with  Markham,  you  can  suspect  him  of  duplicity  and 
secret  hostility  to  such   a  child  as  that — your  child — my  nephew  1" 

"Mr.  Markham's  not  perfectionf  if  what  I've  heard  of  him  is 
true,"  said  Miss  Jane. 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Ann,  "  and  if  I  was  ma,  I'd  die  before  I'd  send 
brother  William  back  to  him  to  be  beaten  like  a  dog !" 

"  And  if  I  was  ma,  I'd  learn  you  to  hold  your  tongues  till  your 
counsel  was  asked  for." 

"  Oh,  do,  brother,  let  the  girls  express  their  opinions.  I  should 
suppose  that  one  might  have  an  ojnnion,  of  even  Mr.  Markham, 
without  having  their  heads  snapt  ofF." 

"  Well,  Anna,  I  see  your  mind  is  made  up  to  take  William  from 
Mr.  Markham's  school." 

"  Yes,  I'm  resolved  upon  it." 

"  And  without  one  word  of  explanation  from  Mr.  Markham  !"  » 

"  Yes  ;  I  want  none  of  his  explanations." 

"  Ma,''  said  William,  "  let  me  go  back  to  the  end  of  the  quarter." 

"  Bravo,  Bill !  Go  back,  my  son — be  a  a  good  boy,  and  learn 
your  book,  and  you'll  be  a  noble  fellow  by  and  by." 

"  Brother  David,  do  you  think  it  right  to  encourage  a  poor  little 
ignorant  child  to  run  counter  to  his  mother's  wishes  ?" 

"  No,  Anna ;  but  I  supposed  that  the  wishes  of  the  child  in  whom 
you  are  so  much  wrapt  up,  might  save  you  from  rash  resolutions  con- 
cerning him." 

"  Well,  it  is  not  necessary  to  debate  the  matter  further,  I  vow  he 
never  shall  go  back  to  Mr.  Markham's  school,  and  that  is  the  long 
and  short  of  it." 

Captain  Thompson  wheeled  off  and  left  the  house  as  if  to  get 
something  of  importance  that  he  had  left  in  a  dangerous  place.  In 
about  a  half  hour  he  returned  : 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  have  seen  Markham,  and  heard  the  whole 
matter  explained " — and  he  gave  it  from  first  to  last,  just  as  it 
occurred.  Still  Mrs.  Mitten  adhered  to  her  resolution.  He  argued, 
he  entreated,  he  implored,  he  forewarned,  he  remonstrated,  he  used 
every  means  that  he  could  think  of  to  change  her  mind,  but  to  no 


MASTKB    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  17 

purpose.  The  truth  is,  Mrs.  Mitten  would  not  place  her  son  where 
he  was  liable  to  be  whipt.  Her  brother  left  in  a  storm.  I  have 
been  thus  particular  in  giving  this  part  of  William's  history,  because 
it  proved  in  the  end,  as  the  sequol  will  show,  to  be  remarkably 
unhic/cy,  and  fruitful  of  wonderful  consequences. 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  reader  will  remember  that   we  left   Mrs,  3Iitteu    resolved  to 
remove  Master  William  from  Mr.  Markham's  school.     Her  resolu- 
tion was  carried  into  effect;  and  she  forthwith  began  to  look  out  for 
a  private  teacher  for   her  son.     But  unluchUi/  no  such  teacher  was 
just  then  to  be  found;  she  was  constrained,  therefore,   to  advertise 
for  one ;  and  though  she  placed  her  advertisement  in  three  Gazettes, 
of  pretty  general  circulation,  three  months  Tolled  away   before  any 
one  proffered  his  services  to  Master  William.     In  the  meantime  our 
little  hero  was   a  gentleman   at   large;  and    having   formed   many 
acquaintances   at   school,  common  courtesy  required  that  he  should 
give  them  as  much  of  his  attention  as    he  could.     Accordingly   he 
was  with  them  at  every  intermission  of  their  studies,  and  took  great 
pleasure  in  attending   the  evening   parties   of  such  as  were  smart 
enough  to  do  without  evening  study.     These  soon  became  so  frequent 
that  William  entirely  neglected  his   mother's   parties  for  them  ;  by 
means  whereof  his  mother  and   her  friends   lost  the   entertainment 
which  he  used  to  afford  them  upon   such  occasions.     She  often  de- 
manded of  him  explanations  of  his  discourtesy  J;o  his  old  admirers, 
which  he  promptly  gave  to  her  entire  satisfaction.     Sometimes   he 
was  at  the  Juvenile  Debating  Society ;  at  others  he  was  at  a  Prayer 
Meeting;  at  one  time  he  "  went  to  hear  Parson  Deleth's  Lecture."' 
(On  the   importance  of  the  Oriental  Languages  to  the  student  of 
Theology.)      At   another   he    went   to   hear  the  Euterpean  band ; 
and  at  all  other  times  he  was  taking  tea  with  good  boys,  or  engaged 
in  some  laudable  employment.     As  the  young  Glibs  had  rather  more 
leisure   than   any   other   boys   in  town,   and   as   their  mother  had 
charged  them  to  cultivate  a  close  acquaintance  with  Master  William, 
they  were  frequently  thrown  together.     At  first  William  was  rather 
shy  of  those  acquaintances ;  but  as  they  forced  themselves  into  his 
company,  pleading  their  mother's  order  for  so  doing,  ]je  could  not 
well  refuse  to  take   them  under  his  moral  training.     Accordingly 
they  soon  became  very  intimate ;  and  William  was  pleased  to  find 
ttiat  they  were  by  no  means  us  bad  boys  as  his  mother  took  them  to 


18  MASTER    WILLiXM   MITTEN. 

be.  Withal  he  soon  discovered  that  they  were  possessed  of  a  vast 
fund  of  information,  which  they  communicated  to  him  freely ;  first 
to  his  astonishment,  and  afterwards  to  his  delight.  They  knew  who 
had  the  best  apples,  peaches,  plums,  cherries  and  melons  in  the  town 
and  neighborhood — what  gardens  contained  the  most  strawberries, 
raspberries,  grapes,  figs  and  pomegranates — who  had  the  earliest 
and  latest  fruits — what  time  bad  dogs  were  turned  loose  at  night — 
where  hens,  guinea-chickens,  ducks  and  turkeys,  were  in  the  habit 
of  laying.  They  were  masters  of  all  culinary  matters,  except  the 
higher  branches  of  cookery.  They  were  abolitionists  of  the  most 
generous  stamp ;  disdaining  the  .distinctions  of  color,  and  holding- 
out  the  most  liberal  encouragements  to  slave  industry,  by  promising 
the  most  liberal  prices  for  such  little  dainties  and  curiosities  as  the 
poor  slave  might  have  to  dispose  of.  Nor  were  these  young  gentle- 
men without  persoui'l  accomplishments,  corresponding  with  their 
vast^mental  endowments.  They  were  the  most  expert  climbers  of 
trees  and  fences  in  the  country.  They  were  good  riders  and  better 
runners.  Though  one  of  them  was  two  months,  another  fifteen  and 
another  thirty-seven  months  older  than  "William,  they  could  slip 
through  gaps  that  he  feared  to  attempt.  They  could  heel  a  game- 
cock, whet  a  jack-knife,  and  shoot  a  pistol,  with  unrivalled  skill — 
their  age  considered.  They  could  recognize  people  in  the  dark 
with,  the  eye  of  an  owl ;  and  run  half-bent  in  gutters  and  ditches, 
faster  than  William  could,  on  a  plain.  They  could  perform  many 
amusing  and  ingenious  tricks  with  cards ;  and  smoke  segars,  ohew 
tobacco  and  drink  cardial,  apple-toddy,  egg-nog  and  the  like,  with 
m'arvelous  grace  and  impunity. 

At  the  end  of  three  or  four  weeks  from  the  time  that  William  left 
school,  Mr.  Markham's  examination  came  off,  and  most  of  the  town 
attended  it.  The  visitors  were,  as  usual,  liberal  in  their  praises  of 
such  as  did  well ;  and  these,  William,  who  was  present,  heard  with 
painful  emotions.  They  were  praises  which  made  his  tea-party-com- 
pliments seem  insignificant.  Here  was  competition,  and  not  one  was 
praised,  of  whom  he  did  not  know  himself  to  be  decidedly  the 
superior.  The  examination  closed  with  an  allotment  of  prizes  to  the 
best  in  the  several  classes,  by  judges  appointed  for  that  purpose. 
William  saw  one  and  another  distributed  with  increasing  dejection 
and  self-reproach.  At  length  George  Markham  was  called  out  on  the 
stage,  and  Judge  Dawson  advancing  to  him  with  a  large  silver  medal, 
suspended  by  a  crimson  ribbon  with  tasteful  decorations,  observed : 
"Master  George,  in  the  course  of  the  examination  you  have  laborad 


MASTER    WILLIA]^   MITTEN.  19 

under  some  disadvantages  ;  for  the  judges,  from  an  apprehension  that 
their  high  respect  for  your  teacher,  might  be  unconsciously  trans- 
ferred to  his  son,  have  been  more  vigilant  of  inaccuracres  in  you 
than  ill  any  of  your  school  mates.  So  well  have  you  acquitted  your- 
self, however,  that  you  have  entirely  relieved  us  from  all  apprehension 
of  doing  you  injustice  on  either  hand,  and  we  presume  there  will  not 
be  a  dissenting  voice  in  this  large  and  respectable  assembly,  to  our 
judgment,  which  awards  to  you  the  iirst  honor  in  your  class  ;  in  tokeii 
of  which  we  present  you  this  beautiful  medal.  Remember,"  con- 
tinued Judge  Dawson,  as  ho  placed  the  loop  of  the  ribbon  over  the 
head  of  blaster  George,  and  dropt  the  medal  on  his  breast — "  remem- 
ber as  often  as  you  look  upon  that  medal,  that  on  the  day  you  re- 
ceived it,  you  raised  the  highest  expectations  of  your  future  distinc- 
tion, and  resolved  never  to  disappoint  them."  As  the  judge  con- 
cluded, the  hou.se  thundered  with  applause.  William  dropt  his  head 
and  wept  bitterly  j  for  he  felt  that  all  this  would  have  been  his,  had 
he  remained  at  school. 

In  the  afternoon  the  usual  exhibition  came  off.  "We  mav  not 
dwell  upon  the  performances  of  each  of  the  students  respectively. 
For   reasons  which   will   be   hereafter  observed,  we  notice  but  two. 

The  fourth  speaker  called  out  was  Master  John  Brown  !  John 
stept  out  so  completely  metamorphosed,  that  William  himself  hardly 
knew  him.  His  hair  was  combed  down  straight  and  slick.  The 
lard-gourd  had  obviously  been  laid  under  contributions  for  it.  His 
feet  were  disguised  under  shoes  and  stockings.  His  suit  was  all  new 
and  of  course  all  of  one  color.  His  mother  had  ti-icd  herself  upon 
it  from  the  spinning  of  the  first  thread,  to  the  fitting  of  it  on.  But 
nature  had  decreed  that  John  sliould  be  a  funny  lookin"-  fellow  in 
spite  of  dress ;  and  as  he  stept  to  the  centre  of  the  stage,  as  if  labor- 
ing under  a  slight  founder,  (for  shoes  manifestly  pestered  him)  an 
involuntary  smile  diffused  itself  over  every  countenance.  He  made 
his  bow,  and  in  a  clear,  distinct  audible  voice  he  began  : 

"Ladies  and  Gentlemen  :  You  will  not  be  surprised  that  I  should 
have  selected  as  my  theme  for  your  entertainment  this  afternoon  the 
incalculable  advantages  of  j^^^^'sottal  hcauty." 

Here  it  seemed  that  the  liouse  would  be  knocked  to  pieces.  *  Men 
women  and  children  laughed  and  thumped  immoderately ;  and  even 
Mr.  Markham  could  not  preserve  his  usual  gravity.  Mrs.  Brown 
plainly  .'•howcd  that  her  trouble  in  rigging  out  John  was  repaid  by 
the  very  first  sentence.  With  almost  every  other,  the  same  scene 
was  renewed;  until  at  length  all  respect  for  order  seemed  to  be  for- 


20  MASTER    WILLIAM  MITTEN. 

gotten  ;  and  such  commendations  as  these  might  be  heard  in  under- 
tones all  over  the  house  :  Well  done,  flat-head  !  Hurra  short-neck  ! 
Bravo  pug-nose  !  I  tell  you  stiff-leg  is  &ome  !  Give  me  homespun 
at  last.  John  concluded,  and  had  it  been  allowable,  he,  doubtless, 
would  have  been  encored  at  least  three  times.  He  owed  most  of  his 
credit  to  the  patient  and  careful  drilling  of  his  teacher,  but  there 
were  few  in  the  school  who  could  have  improved  good  drilling  as 
well  as  John  did. 

Next  to  John's  speech,  the  most  amusing  thing  in  the  exhibition 
was  a  dialogue  between  George  Markham  and  David  Thompson, 
which  elicited  great  applause.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  exercises, 
honors  were  a  second  time  distributed,  and  young  Markham  was 
again  complimented  with  a  prize.  Brown  got  one,  of  course,  which 
was  rendered  doubly  complimentary,  by  another  peal  of  applause  as 
he  received  it. 

All  this  was  slow  murder  to  William  Mitten,  Nor  did  his  tortures 
end  here.  Seeing  his  uncle  and  Mr.  Markham  in  conversation  as 
the  company  retired,  he  flattered  himself  that  they  were  negotiating 
for  his  1-eturn  to  school,  and  he  drew  near  to  them  unobserved  by 
either,  and  overheard  this  conversation  : 

"  That  little  fellow  Brown  is  an  odd  looking  fish,  Mr.  Markham, 
but  there's  somQ' gumption  in  him  after  all." 

"  He's  rough  material  to  polish,  but  he  has  some  talent ;  and  if  he 
can  be  made  to  study,  he  may  be  a  man  of  worth  yet." 

"  I  congratulate  you  on  the  very  handsome  manner  in  which  your 
son  acquitted  himself  in   everything." 

"  He  may  thaak  Mrs.  Mitten  for  his  honors  of  to-day,  for  had  she 
suffered  her  son  to  remain  at  school,  George  would  not  have  touched 
a  single  honor.  When  William  studied  (and  he  had  begun  to  study 
well)  he  was  vastly  superior  to  George  in  everything.  The  dialogue 
was  written  on  purpose  to  show  off  his  wonderful  dramatic  talent. 
George's  part  was  designed  for  him,  and  your  son's  for  George ;  and 
I'll  venture  to  say,  that  I  can  take  William  and  read  over  the  part  to 
him  but  once,  and  he  will  perform  it  decidedly  better  than  George 
did.  He  spoke  before  me  but  three  or  four  times  w'hile  he  was  with 
me.  The  first  time,  I  read  over  his  piece  to  him  after  he  had  re- 
peated it,  and  made  him  deliver  it  again  ;  and  I  was  amazed  to  see 
how  exactly  he  followed  my  reading  in  every  respect.  Take  him 
altogether,  I  think  he  is  decidedly  the  smartest  boy  I  ever  had  in  my 
school."  Here  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  congratula* 
tions  of  several  other  gentlemen. 


MASTHK    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  21 

William  went  home  in  tortures,  and  hardly  slept  a  wink  that  night. 
He  would  have  given  the  world  for  the  honors  and  praises  which 
George  Markham  had  received  that  day ;  and  he  would  have  been 
willing  to  have  changed  persons  with  John  Brown,  for  the  trophies 
which  John  had  won. 

The  nest  morning  he  recounted  to  his  mother  all  the  events  of  the 
day,  and  particularly  the  conversation  which  he  had  heard  between 
his  uncle  and  Mr.  Markham.  She  was  now  stung  nearly,  or  quite 
as  deeply  as  her  son.  But  what  could  she  do  ?  Her  vow  was  out 
and  it  must  be  kept. 

"  Well,  my  child,"  said  she  despondingly,  "  all  this  only  goes  to 
show  that  you  are  born  to  ill-luck.  But  I  hope  it  is  all  for  the  best. 
Those  who  are  unlucky  in  youth  are  apt  to  be  lucky  in  old  age,  it  is 
said — and  I  hope  it  will  be  so  with  you." 

"  Ma,  when  you  get  yowr  private  teacher  will  he  have  any  exhi- 
bitions?" 

"  No,  my  son,  he  will  have  no  scholar  but  you." 
*'  Then  I  don't  want  to  go  to  a  private  teacher." 
"  But  remember  my  child,  that  as  he  will  have  but  3'ou  one  to  at- 
tend to,  he  can  teach  you  a  great  deal  better,  and'  bring  you  on  a 
great  deal  faster  than  Mr.  Markham  could,  who  has  so  many  in 
charge.  And  study  well,  and  you  will  soon  enter  college,  where 
you  will  have  an  opportunity  of  showing  off  your  talents  not  simply 
to  a  village,  but  to  a  whole  State  !" 

''  And  how  long  will  it  be  before  I  can  go  to  college?"  • 

"  With  your  gifts,  and  a  private  teacher,  I  have  no  doubt  you  will 
be  prepared  to  enter  college  in  four  years  at  the  outside." 
*'  Why,  Ma,  I'll  be  dead  before  four  years  !" 
"Oh,    I  hope   not;  they   will  roll    round  before   you  are  aware 
of  it." 

As  the  private  teacher  had  not  yet  been  found,  William  had  no- 
thing to  do  for  the  present,  and  he  resumed  his  attention  to  public 
and  devotional  exercises,  in  fellowship  with  the  young  Glibs,  and 
others  of  their  stamp. 

A  few  days  after  this  Parson  Turner  was  announced  as  wishing  to 
have  a  few  minutes  private  conversation  with  Mrs.  Mitten.  lie  was 
ushered  into  the  parlor ;  and  Mrs,  Mitten  soon  followed  him. 

«  Mrs.  Mitten,"  said  the  Parson,  "  I  have  called  on  you  to  beg  of 

you  to  keep  your  son  at  home  on  Wednesday    nights.     He  and   the 

Glibs  come   to  the  church  where  we  hold  our  prayer  meetings,  and 

sometimes  at  the  door,  and  sometimes  in  the  gallery,  keep  up  such  a 

c 


22  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEF. 

laughing,  bleating  and  groaning,  that  it  is  next  to  impossible  for  us 
to  proceed  with  our  devotions." 

"  Why,  Parson  Turner,  you  must  be  mistaken  !  I  have  always 
taught  my  child  to  treat  religious  services  with  the  most  profound 
respect ;  and  for  reasons  that  need  not  be  ]nentioned,  I  am  confi- 
dent that  he  is  hardly  acquainted  with  the  Glibs." 

"  No,  madam,  there  is  no  mistake  about  it.  We  all  know  him 
very  well." 

"Well,  Parson  Turner,  T  will  enquire  into  the  matter,  and,  if  I 
find  it  so,  I  will  see  to  it  that  my  son  disturbs  you  no  ifiore." 

"  Whether  you  find  it  so  or  not,  I  assure  you  madam  it  is  so." 
So  saying  he  took  his  leave.  He  hud  not  been  gone  long  when 
William  came  in. 

'"William,"  said  his  mother,   do   you  associate  with' the  Glibs?" 

"They  sometimes  come  to  where  I  amy..and  then  I  can't  get  rid  of 
them  ;  but  I   don't  go  where  they" arc." 

"  Well,  now,  I  strictly  forbid  you  from'  associating  with  those 
boys.  They  are  very  bad  boys  and  unfit  company  for  you.  Parson 
Turner  says  you  go  with  them  to  the  church,  and  behave  very  rudely 
during  prayer  meeting,     is  that  so,  William  V  , 

"  'Twasn't  me,  Ma,  it  was  the  Glib-boys." 

"  How  came  you  there  with  the  Glib-boys,  at  all  ?" 

"  I  said  I  was  going  to  th§  prayer  meeting  and  they  followed  me."^ 

"  Well,  my  son,  I'm  very  glad  to  learn  that  you  didn't  misbe- 
have at  the  meeting.  Brought  up  as  piously  as  you  have  been,  I 
didn't  think  it  possible  that  you.  could  treat  religious  services  with 
contempt.  W^hen  you  go  to  such  meetings,  (which  I  am  glad  to 
find  you  disposed  to  do)  take  your  seat  near  the  leader  of  them,  and 
bad  boys  will  not  follow  you  there.  Never  have  anything  to  do  with 
boys  that  can  trifle  with  sacred  things.  It's  the  worst  sign  in  the 
world." 

Mr.  Turner  went  from  Mrs.  Mitten's  to  Mrs.  Glib's,  and  repeated 
bis  story. 

Mrs.  Glib  received  him  with  a  careless  chuckle,  and  said  to  him  : 
"  Oh,  Mr.  Turner,  I  wouldn't  mind  little  thoughtless  boys  ;  they  will 
have  their  fun  ;  but  they'll  quit  "these  things  when  they  grow  older. 
Pm  very  cautions  against  reproving  my  children  for  little  childish 
freaks  in  church,  lest  I  should  excite  in  them  a  dangerous  and  lasting 
prejudice  against  religion. 

Mr.  Turner,  after  sitting  petrified  for  about  a  half  minute,  rose 
and  abruptly  left  the  house.     " 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MIITKX.  23 

About  noon  on  the  following  Thursday,  Jlrs.  Glib  came  over  to 
Mr^.  Mitten's,  in  a  great  flurry.  "  Oh,"  exclaimed  she,  as  she 
entered  the  house,  "  do  you  know,  Mrs.  Mitten,  there's  a  warrant  out 
against  all  our  children  !  T  got  wiild  of  it  and  hid  my  children;  but 
I'm  told  they've  got  William" — 

"A  warrant!"  shrieked  Mrs.  M.  "In  mercj^'s  name  tell  me 
what  has  my  child  been  doing  to  have  a  warrant  out  against  him?" 

"Oh,  nothing  of  any  consequence — don't  be  alarmed — nothing  but 
disturbing  a  prayer-n.eeting.  Sqnirc  Crumb  says  there's  no  law  for 
it;  and  if  there  wap,  throwing  [Atones  at  a  house  and  setting  oflf 
squibs  at  the  door  would  not  be  against  the  law ;  and  if  he  was  em- 
ployed, he'd  blow  it  all  up,  .But  Judge  Dawson  says  there  is  a  law 
against  disturbing  worshipping  i>sseniblics.  I  was  afraid  of  this, 
when  Turner  went  sbout  complaining  of  the  boys  for  their  little 
sports.  You  know  such  things  always  make'  thoin  mad  and  worse 
than  ever." 

i\Irs.  jMitten  was  nearly  distractod ;  for  her  head  was  filled  with 
jails,  and  punishment,  and  eternal  disgrace,  which  she  .supposed  the 
invariable  accompaniments  of  warrants.  ITer  bro.ther  David  was  sent 
for,  post-hrfsto ;  and  he  was  soon  at  Mr,  Justice  Easy's  office,  where 
William  was  under  arrest.*  A  short  interview  between  him  and 
I*arson  Turner  settled  the  matter  amicably.  The  latter  told  him  all 
that  had  transpired  and  said  he  .suw  no  other  way  of  stopping  these 
hopeful  youths ;  but  that  if  Mr.  Thompson  would  pledge  himself 
that  they  woulfl  disturb  the  meetings  no  more,  he  would  stop  the 
prosecution.  The  pledge  was  given,  and  the  matter  was  settled. — 
This  done,  Mr.  Thompson  proceeded  with  William  to  his  sister's, 
where  he  found  the  two  mothers. 

'*  Where  are  your  children,  madam  y"  said  Thompson  sternly  to 
Mrs.  Glib. 

"  Why,  they — I  expect  they  are — that  is,  I  think  likely — which 
one  of  them  ?" 

'"■  Why,  all  of  them,  madam." 

"  Oh,  I  have  not  seen  cue  of  them  since  quite  early  this  morning. 
What  did  you  want  with  them,  (Captain  Thompson  ?" 

"  /  wished  to  know  from  their  own  lips  whether,  if  T  get  them  out 
of  this  scrape,  they'll  let  ptoplc  pray  in  peace  hereafter." 

"Oh,  yes,  yes,  yes— I'll  engage  for  them;  and  I  will  consider  my- 
self undor  everlasting  obligationa  to  you  Captain,  if  you'll  got  them 
out." 

"  I  must  have  the  pledge  from  their  own  lips." 


•24  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

"  Well,  I'll  run  over  home  and  see  if  they  are  not  there.  I've 
no  doubt  they  are,  for  they  always  come  home  about  this  hour — what 
o'clopk  is  it '/" 

"  Half  after  twelve." 

"  Oh,  if  it's  as  late  as  that,  I'm  sure  I  shall  find  them  at  home. 
Stay  a  minute,  Captain,  and  I'll  run  over  and  bring  them." 

She  soon  returned  with  her  three  boys,  who  were  placed  with 
William  before  the  Captain. 

"Do  you  know,  young  gentlemen,"  said  ho  with  great  solemnity, 
"  that  you  have  violated  the  laws  of  your  country?  That  a  warrant 
has  been  issued  against  you,  to  vindicate  the  offended  majesty  of  the 
people's  laws  ?"  (Here  the  ladies  looked  much  alarmed.)  "  That, 
unless  somebody  will  befriend  you,  your  mothers  ai'e  liable  to  be 
mulct  in  pounds  of  money ;  and  that  you  are  liable  to  be  cast  in 
prison  for  ten  long  days  and  nights,  with  nothing  to  eat  but  bread 
and  water,  and  nothing  to  sleep  on  but  the  hard  floor  and  a  few 
blankets  ?  Then  be  dragged  to  a  court  of  justice,  before  the  eyes  of 
the  whole  world,  and  th3re  to  be  tried,  by  a  jury  of  twelve  men  duly 
empanelled  to  pass  between  you  and  your  injured,  insulted  country  ? 
Then,  when  convicted,  (as  you  are  certain  to  be,)  that  you  are  to  be 
turned  over  to  Judge  Dawson,  (who  always  respects  religion,  and 
whose  wife  is  a  most  excellent  member  cf  the  church,)  to  be  dealt 
with  according  to  the  law  in  such  case  made  and  provided  ?  And 
do  you  furthermore  know,  that  all  four  of  you  are  posting  to  the 
devil  just  as  fast  as  he  would  have  you  go?  Do  you  know  all  this? 
my  hopeful  young  friends  ?"    . 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  boys. 

"Very  well.  Now,  I  am  disposed  to  befriend  you  all;  but  I  de- 
sire to  know  what  I  am  to  expect  from  you,  if  I  do;  for  I  don't  wish 
to  "■et  myself  into  any  more  trouble  on  your  account.  If  I  can  be 
certain  that  you  will  never  get  into  any  more  such  scrapes,  I'll  hush 
up  all  this  matter,  as  I  know  I  can ;  but  I  must  have  a  promise  from 
all  of  you  that,  if  I  do,  I  shall  have  no  more  such  matters  to  hush 
up.  As  for  Bill  there,  I'll  manage  him  myself:  and  if  he  goes  to 
disturbing  religions  meetings  again,  after  the  trouble  he  has  given 
me  and  after  I  have  snatched  him  from  the  clutches  of  the  law,  I'll 
give  him  the  timber  myself,  harder  than  Markham  did,  mother  or 
no  mother,  objection  or  no  objection." 

"■  In  such  case,  brother  David,  I  think  you  would  be  perfectly 
justifiable,  after  you  have  stood  his  security  and" — 

<'  Certainly,    certainly,"  said   Mrs.   Glib ;  "  and   in  such  case,  I 


•  MASTER    WU.LIAM    MITTEK".  25 

would  not  think  of  opening  my  moutb,  if  he  should  whip  my  chil- 
dren too." 

"  Well,  will  your  children  make  the  promise,  or  will  they  prefer 
going  to  jail  T 

"  Why,  Captain,  I  would  not  own  them  if  they  refused.  They 
are  too  high  minded  and  honorable  to  refuse  so  great  a  favor  upon 
such  easy  terms." 

"  Very  well.  George  Washington  Alexander  Avgustus  Glib : 
Do  you  promise  me  here,  in  the  presence  of  your  mother  and  Mrs. 
Mitten,  that  if  I  stop  this  prosecution,  so  that  it  shall  not  harm  you 
or  your  mother,  or  your  brothers,  that  you  will  never  disturb  another 
religious  meeting  while  you  live,  either  by  mouth,  foot  or  hand, 
inside  or  outside  of  the  house ;  and  that  you  will  show  no  rudeness, 
in  any  form  or  way,  to  Parjon  Turner,   at  any  time  or  in  any  place? 

Do  you?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Thomas  Jefferson  Nnpolcyjn  Bonaparte  Glib  :  Do  you  make  the 
same  promise  that  your  brother  has  just  made  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Bciijarain  Franklin  J^idaski  Laflri/rtie  Glib  :  Do  you  make  the 
same  promise  ?" 

'•  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  remain  here  five  minutes,  and  if  in  that  time  I  do  not  re- 
turn, you  may  be  certain  that  the  matter  is  satisfactorily  settled." 
So  saying  he  retired. 

"  Oh,  Mrs,  Mitten,"  said  Mrs.  Glib,  ''  what  an  excellent,  excellent 
man,  that  brother  of  yours  is.     I  shall  love  him  as  long  as  I  live." 

"  brother  David  has  a  good  heart,'  though  he  is  sometimes  rough 
in  his  manner.  Was  ever  child  so  unfortunate  as  mine  ?  It  is  an 
old  maxim,  that  one  had  better  bo  born  lucky  than  rich,  and  I  be- 
lieve it.  Brother  David  will  probably  settle  the  suit ;  but  who  is  to 
wipe  out  the  stain  from  my  child's  character?" 

"  Dear  me,  Mrs.  Mitten,  the  thing  will  be  forgotten  in  a  week ! 
Everybody  knows  that  it  was  but  a  childish  frolic,  that  nobody  but 
old  Turner  would  have  noticed ;  and  I  shall*  make  it  my  business  to 
give  him  my  mind  upon  it  very  freely,  the  first  time  I  meet  him. 
7'w  under  no  promise,  if  my  children  are." 

"I  cannot  blame  I'arson  Turner,  Mrs.  Glib,  and  1  hope  you 
will  not." 

The  five,  and  even  ten  minutcq  rolled  away,  and,  jMr.  Thompson 
not  returning,  Mrs.  Glib  moved  off  with  her  sons,  looking  very  little 
like  their  name.'sakos. 


CHAPTER  in. 

Mrs.  Mitten  now  determined  to  keep  her  son  at  borne  of  nights; 
she  therefore  charged  him,  "  upon  pain  of  her  sore  displeasure/' not 
to  leave  the  house  at  night  without  her  permission.  William  promised 
obedience,  of  course;  and  like  a  good'boy,  kept  his  promise  for  two 
nights  and  a  half,  without  ever  asking  leave  of  absence.  On  the 
second  night  she  seated  him  at  the  stand  to  read  to  her  and  his 
sisters.  He  had  proceeded  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  when  three 
strange  whistles  Avere  heard  near  the  house.  They  were  not  noticed 
by  Mrs.  M.  as  yet;  but  the  Hrst  had  no  sooaer bounded,  than  William 
began  to  read  horribly. 

"Now,  William,"  said  his  mother.  "you'\^  got  tired  of  reading 
already;  and  you're  trying  how  bad  you  can  read,  that  I  may  make 
you  stop !" 

"No,  I  declare  I  a'nt,  ma." 

"Well,  what  makes  you  blunder  and  halt  and  miscall  words  so  ? 
What  does  that  incessant  whisitling  mean?" 

"That's  the  way  the  boys  whistle  at  school,"  said  William. 

"  How  do  they  do  it !  for  it  sounds  like  blowing  in  large  phials." 

"  They  do  it  by  blowing  in  their  hands." 

"What are  they  blowing  about  hers  for?  they  never  did  it  before. 
Go  out  V/illiam,  and  beg  them  to. desist." 

William  obeyed  promptly,  and  it  seemed  gladly.  The  whistling 
ceased  as  soon  as  he  went  out ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  returned. 

"  Who  are  they  ?"  enquired  Mrs.  Mitten. 

"  A  parcel  of  school-boys,"  said  William,  ^'  but  they  said  they 
wouldn't  whistle  about  the  house  any  move."  He  resumed  his  seat, 
and  read*  pretty  well  until  his  mother  excused  him. 

The  next  evening  the  whistling  was  renewed ;  but  at  such  a  dis- 
tance from  the  house,  as  to  attract  the  attention  of  no  one;  unless, 
perchance  William  from  the  events  of  the  preceding  night,  was  led 
to  notice  it. 

"  Ma,"  said  he  "  mayn't  I  go  to  the  Juvenile  Debating  Society- 
to-night  ?"  . 

"  Certainly,  my  son ;  but  come  home  as  soon  as  the  Society 
adjourns." 

He  set  out,  but  happening  to  fall  in  with  Ben  and  Jeff  Glib,  by 


MASTER    WILLIAM  MITTEN.  27 

the  way,  (so  they  were  called  for  short)  they  proposed  going  by 
Squire  King's  garden,  and  getting  a  few  June  apples.  Ren  said, 
"  that  Lawyer  King  was  a  very  clever  man,  and  didn't  care  who  took 
his  apples,  if  they  didn't  break  his  trees;  and  only  took  what  they 
wanted  to  eat."  Jeft"  said  that  he  knew  "  that  to  be  a  fact ;  for  he 
heard  him  tell  William  Strain,  his  wife's  little  brother,  that  very  day, 
to  go  in  with  his  playmates,  and  eat  as  many  as  they  wanted,  but  not 
to  break  down  his  trees." 

<'Well,  if  that's  the  case,"  said  William,  "  111  go;  but  I  wouldn't 
steal  apples  for  anything  in  the  world." 

'<  Neither  would  I,"  said  Ben.     l^aw,  no  !    Not  for  the  world." 

"  Oh,  it's  nothing  like  stealing,"  .said  JeiF.  "  Sposen  you  was  to 
lay  down  anything,  and  say  you  didn't  care  who  took  it,  if  they 
didn't  break  it,  and  I  was  to  come  along  at  night,  and  take  it,  ana 
not  break  it,  would  that  he  paling  ?" 

"No,"  said  Ben,  "  it's  no  more  stealing  than  picking  up  a  chip," 

William  had  attended  the  Juvenile  Debating  Society  too  long  and 
with  too  much  profit,  not  to  feel  the  full  force  of  Master  Glib's  logic, 
and  consequently  his  scruples  were  immediately  removed  and  the 
boys  proceeded  to  the  garden.  The  fence  was  easily  ascended,  and 
they  were  soon  under  the  best  apple  tree. 

"  William,"  said  Ben  in  a  whisper,  "  this  is  a  good  place  to  learn 
to  climb.  The  limbs  are  low  and  I  can  push  you  up  to  them.  When 
you  get  in  the  tree,  shake  down  the  apples,  and  brother  Jeff  and  I 
will  piok  'em  up  ;  but  don't  sh;ike  down  more  than  we  can  eat;  for 
Mr.  King  wouldn't  like  that,  and  1  should  hate  to  do  anything  he 
don't  like.  Don't  shake  hgrd.  The  best  way  is  to  get  on  a  limb, 
and  hit  a  little  stoiiip  with  your  heel,  and  if  they  don't  come  stomp 
a  little  harder." 

Thus  instructed,  William,  with  Ben's  help,  ascended  the  tree.  He 
stampt  limb  after  limb  until  he  thought  enough  had  fallen  to  satisfy 
the  company,  and  wiis  about  descending,  when  Jeff  said,  "  Don't  come 
down  yit — we  an't  got  enough  yit — I  can  eat  a  bosom  full.  Here, 
go  out  upon  this  limb  and  fetch  it  a  pretty  hard  stomp  or  two  and 
that'll  do." 

William  went  out  on  the  limb  as  directed,  and  at  the  first  stamp, 
missing  the  limb,  he  fell,  and  broke  his  arm  just  above  the  elbow. 
His  pain  was  great,  and  his  alarm  was  greater,  but  he  bore  them 
with  little  complaint  until  he  cleared  the  garden.  He  then  broke 
forth  in  heart-piercing  groans,  sobs,  and  lamentations ;  but  not  loud 
enough  to  disturb  any  of  the  villagers  ;  "  Oh,  my  arm  does  hurt  me 


28  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

SO  bad  !  Only  see  how  it  swings  about !  Oh,  my  poor  dear  mother; 
it  will  kill  her.  My  Heavenly  Father,  forgive  me  this  one  time,  and 
1  never  viH  do  the  like  again  !  I  don't  want  you  two  boys  to  go 
home  with  me.     If  you  please  don't  go  home  with  me." 

His  cries  announced  his  coming  before  he  reached  home ;  for  they 
became  louder  as  he  approached  his  mother's  door.  His  sisters  flew 
to  him,  and  his  mother  rose  to  follow  them  ;  but  her  strength  failed 
her  and  she  fell  back  in  her  chair.  They  could  not  learn  the  cause 
of  his  wailing  until  he  entered  the  house ;  when  advancing  to  his 
mother,  he  sobbed  out,  "  Oh,  my  dear  mother,  look  at  my  arm !" 

"  What,  is  it  broke  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  can't  move  it." 

"  Oh,  my  God,  was  ever  a  child  doomed  to  such  misfortunes  ! 
Ann  send  for  the  Doctor  immediately — I  have  not  strength  to  move. 
Send  for  Doctor  Hull  and  Doctor  Barden  both." 

The  doctors  came,  and  set  the  arm. 

Of  course  the  enquiry  was  from  all,   how  the  accident  happened. 

"  I  was  going  to  the  Society,"  said  William,  "and  was  standing 
by  a  tree,  and  one  boy  said  he'd  learn  me  to  climb,  and  he  pushed 
me  up  the  tree,  and  I  fell  down  and  broke  my  arm." 

We  will  not  detain  the  reader  with  the  many  questions  which  this 
explanation  provoked,  and  the  answers  to  them  which  William  gave. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  Doctor  Hull  fetched  a  little  grunt  of  equivocal 
signification,  and  took  a  chew  of  tobacco  upon  it,  with  as  little  in- 
terest in  it  as  if  he  had  set  a  thousand  arms  broken  in  this  way ;  but 
Doctor  Barden  was  as  particular  in  his  enquiries  into  the  case,  as 
though  he  meant  to  report  it  to  the  Philadelphia  Medical  Journal. 

The  next  morning  Squire  King  came  over  to  enquire  *'  how  poor 
little  William  was."  He  expressed,  and  no  doubt  felt,  tender  sym- 
pathies for  the  boy ;  but  any  one  to  have  marked  his  eye,  would  have 
supposed  that  his  sympathies  gathered  about  William's  feet  rather 
than  his  arm. 

This  might  be  accounted  for  without  discredit  to  the  Squire's 
heart ;  for  being  a  great  hunter,  he  had  contracted  a  habit  of  ex- 
amining tracks,  and  track-makers,  which  beset  him  at  times,  and 
sometimes  upon  improper  occasions,  as  in  this  instance. 

''  William,"  said  the  Squire  with  a  small  dash  of  waggishness  in 
his  tone  and  countenance  which  Bill  seemed  to  think  very  ill-timed; 
"  was  it  a  smooth-barked  tree,  or  a  rough-barked  tree  ?" 
*'  I forgot  ]"  drawled  out  Bill  a  little  crustily. 


MASTER    WILLIAM   .MITTEN.  29 

"  Did  you  get  up  to  the  limbs  before  you  fell,  or  just  fall  from 
the  body  ?" 

"I got  to  the  limbs—" 

"  Did  you  take  off  yourHhoes  V 

'-'No." 

"  Aye,  that's  the  way  the  accident  happened.  You  wont  up  with 
your  shoes  on.  You  should  always  take  off  your  shoes  when  you 
climb.  The  Glib-boys,  who  are  the  best  climbers  I  know,  alwayg 
take  off  their  shoes  and  stockings  both.  I  hope,  my  son,  you  will 
soon  be  well.  Mrs.  Mitten,  if  there's  anything  that  I  have  that  can 
minister  to  William's  comfort,  it  is  at  your  service.  I  have  some 
very  fine  June  apples,  and  I  will  send  him  over  some;  little  boyis 
commonly  like  such  things." 

"  Thank  you — thank  you  kindly,  Mr.  King.  I  know  he  will  prize 
them  very  highly— William  have  you  no  thanks  to  give  Mr.  King, 
for  his  kindness  ?"     Mr.  King  retired. 

"William,"  said  his  motbev,  it  seemed  to  me  you  were  a  little 
lude  to  Mr.  King." 

•  I  know  him,"  said  Bill  sulkily. 

•Well,  ypu  know  a  most  excellent,  kind-hearted  man." 

"  He's  always  poking  his  fun  at  people." 

"I'm  sure  tliere  was  nothing  like  fun  in  what  he  said  to  you.  It 
wa^  all  tenderness  and  kindness." 

William's  arm  kept  him,  for  the  most  part  confined  to  the  house 
lor  five  WGek.s  or  more;  during  which  time  he  was  quite  lucky ;  for 
nothing  happened  to  disturb  his,  or  his  mother's  peace.  He  had 
been  so  long  kept  from  the  Juvenile  Debating  Society  that  he  had 
become  very  anxious  to  attend  it;  and  his  mother's  consent  being 
obtained,  he  departed  once  more  for  the  arena  of  youthful  polemics. 

He  did  not  return  until  the  family  retired  to  rest;  and  in  passing 
to  his  room  he  made  such  a  noise  among  the  chairs,  as  to  wake  up 
his  mother. 

"Isthat  you  William  ?"  said  she. 

•Yes." 

'  I.«  that  the  way  you  answer  your  mother?" 

•  ^V'llo  put  all  these  chairs  in  the  entry  ?" 

"  There  are  no  more  there,  than  are  always  there." 
"It's  a  lie." 

•  Oh  heavens,  my  child  is  deranged  !  3Iy  child  !  my  child  !  That 
arm,  that  arm  I"  . 

Mrs.  Mitten  sprung  from  her  bed,  uud  before  she  even  lighted  a 


30  MASTER  WILLIAM    MHTEN". 

oandle  dispatched  a  serTant  to  Do«tor  Hull  with  the  request  that  he 
hurry  over  immediately  ;  for  that  her  son  was  out  of  his  senses.  She 
had  hardly  got  a  light  and  a  loose-gown  thrown  over  her  shoulders, 
before  the  Doctor  was  .-it  the  door.  They  met  in  the  entry,  just  as 
William  had  come  the  fourth  time  to  a  chair  which  had  been 
heading  him  ever  since  he  entered  the  house.  Pie  seized  it  (for  it 
had  naturally  enough  exhausted  his  patieuce)  and  slung  it  'with  all 
his  might  as  far  as  he  could  send  it. 

"  Oh  Doctor !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mitten  in  the  deepest  agony  of 
mind,  ''can  you  do  anything  for  my  poor  unfortunate  boy  !" 

'  "  Oh  yes  ma'am — yes  ma'am.  Don't  be  alarmed.  I  pledge  my- 
self to  have  him  sound  and  well  before  nine  o'clock  to-moi'row 
morning." 

"  Oh  Doctor  how  c;m  you  speak  so  confidently  without  even  feeling 
the  child's  pulse." 

Just  here,  William  having  got  hold  of  a  s:nall  table  that  stood  in 
the  entry,  and  which  he  probably  mistook  for  a  wash-basin,  poured 
out  upon  it  a  villainous  compound,  of  heterogeneous  elements,  which 
it  would  have  required  a  stronger  head  and  greater  capacity  than 
Bill  possessed,  to  keep  together  in  peace  for  a  single  niglit. 

The  Doctor  grunted,  as  usual;  but  with  unusual  indications  of  sym- 
pathy for  Master  Mitten. 

"■  Why,  Doctor,  it  seems  to  me,"  said  the  good  lady,  ''that  I  smell 
peach  brandy !" 

"  It  seems  so  to  me  too,"  said  the  Doctor,  "and  scgar  smoke  to 
boot." 

"  It's  a  lie,"  said  Bill.     "He  tells  a  lie,  and  you  tell  a   lie." 

"  Do  you  think  my  child  is  drunk,  Doctor  ?" 

"  No  doubt  of  it  in  the  world,  madam.  Nothing  else  is  the  matter 
with  him." 

"  Then  my  flxte  is  sealed.  I  am  doomed  to  wretchedness  for  life." 
And  she  sobbed  and  shrieked  by  turns. 

"  Betire  to  your  room,  madam.  I  will  put  him  to  bed,  and  stay 
with  him  until  he  gets  sound  asleep;  and  he  will  be  well  in  the 
morning." 

Hhe  did  so;  but  it  was  to  walk  her  rojniin  tortures  through  the 
live-long  night — not  to  sleep. 

It  was  late  in  the  morning  before  William  rose.  He  had  learned 
from  a  servant  all  that  passed  on  the  preceding  evening;  and  it 
was  an  hour  after  he  rose  before  he  could  venture  from  his  room, 
to  face   his  mether.     At   length  he   came,    and   mingled    tears   of 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MITTEN.  81 

contrition  with  her  tears  of  sorrow — confes.sed  his  faiiltand  promised 
never  to  smoke  another  sogar.  or  drink  another  drop  of  liquor,  while 
he  lived. 

About  noon,  on  this  day,  an  elderly,  good  looking  gentleman  ijiade 
his  appearance  at  Mrs.  Mitten's  and  introduced  hinisclt.as  Mr.  Jud- 
kins  Twattle.  He  said  ho  had  f^een  Mrs.  Mitten's  advertisement,  and 
had  come  to  offer  his  services  as  a  private  teacher.  Mrs.  Jlitten  de- 
sired him  to  call  again  at  ten  the  next  morning,  when  her  brother 
would  be  present,  whose   counsel    she   wished  to  have  in  the  matter. 

At  the  appointed  hour  the  parties  met. 

"  Havo  you  any  certificates  of  character  and  capability  Mr.  Twat- 
tle ?"  said  Ca]>taia  Thompson. 

"  More.  1  presume,  sir,  than  you  will  be  willing  to  read." 

Whereupon  he  produced  a  large  bundle  of  ccrtilicates,  running  by 
long  jumps  through  twenty  years,  and  growing  colder  anu«colder. 
with  very  few  exceptions,  from  the  first  to  the  last.  They  all  agreed 
however  in  representing  3Ir.  Twattle  as  fully  couipeteat  to  teach  all 
the  ordinary  branches  of  an  English  education,  with  Algebra,  Geome- 
try, Latin  and  Greek.  The  two  fir.^t  were  vcr}'  flattering,  and  spoke 
in  unmeasured  terms  of  his  skill  as  a  teacher,  his  talents,  attainments, 
gentlemanly  demeanor,  and  spotless  moral  character.  The  tVvo  last 
merely  testified  that  "  Doctor  Tw!xtt\c  was  a  good  scholar  and  fully 
able  to  teach  Latin,  Greek,  Mathematics,  &c.,  &c.;  tho  one  almost  a 
literal  copy  of  the  other.  The  first  and  second  were  frojp  A'evmont 
—the  third  from  Pennsylvania — the  fourth  irom  A'erniont — the  fifth 
from  Virginia — the  sixth  from  New  Hampshire — and  the  seventh 
from  Kentucky— rthe  ei^'ht  from  Vermont — and  the  rest  were  from 
various  places,  under  iihe  doisignations  of  "  Bethel  Seminary,"  "Be- 
thesda  Institute,"  "  Pineville  l^yceum,"  <•  Buckliead  Atheneum," 
"  Goosepond  Literary  Parthenon,"  "  Big  Lick  Acropolis  oi  Let- 
ters," ''Tickvillc  Emporium  of  Litciaturc  and  Science,"  <!v:c. 

Captain  Thompson  knew  nothing  of  Mathematics,  Greek,  or  liatin, 
but  he  could  understand  certificates  as  well  as  Newton,  l)(Mnosthcues, 
or  Cicero  J  and  he  .spared  no  pains  in  studying  thom  njion  this  occa- 
sion. After  ho  had  looked  them  over  until  he  wore  out  the  patience 
of  his  sister  and  Dr.  Twattle,  he  observed  : 

"  You  scorn  to  liave  been  a  great  traveller,  Doctor." 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  early  conceived  a  desire  to  settle  in  the  sunny  South  ; 
and  as  soon  as  I  raised  money  enough  to  bear  my  expenses,  T  left  mv 
native  State  for  Pennsylvania  ;  but  my  health  failing,  Viad  to  return. 
As  soon  as  I  recovered  my  healtli,  I  set  out  again  for  the  South  ;  but 


32  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

my  health  again  failing,  I  was  again  constrained  to  seek  a  Northern 
clime.  And  thus  I  went  on  until,  advancing  in  years,  I  found  that 
I  could  not  only  endure  a  Southern  climate,  but  that'  it  Avas  now 
m»re  conLcenial  to  my  constitution. than  a  Northern  one.  Thencefor- 
ward, I  have  5^1  ways  resided  in  the  South.  Having  no  aim  but  to 
spread  the  lights  of  science  through  our  favored  country,  and  no  dis- 
position to  accummulate  money,  but  a  strong  propensity  to  travel  and 
see  the  world,  I  have  so  ordered  my  life  as  to  fill  the  measure  of  my 
wishes.  I  teach  from  place  to  place,  for  longer  or  shorter  periods,  as 
I  like  or  dislike  the  people;  but  never  make  an  arrangement  for  more 
than  two  years  at  a  time.  Thus  it  is,  sir,  that  you  see  so  many  cer- 
tificates from  different  places." 

"  What  gave  you  such  a  strong  desire  to  visit  the  South?" 
"  At  first,  nothing  but  my  inborn  roving  disposition  ;  but  after 
residing  iiwhile  at  the  South,  particularly  in  Virginia,  I  became  so 
much  enamored  with  Southern  manners,  customs,  talent,  spirit, 
generosity,  hospitality  and  vivacity,  that  I  determined  to  fix  my 
abode  here  as  soon  as  I  could  do  so  without  rushing,  with  my  eyes 
open  right,  into  the  jaws  of  death.'' 

'' Emph-hemph !"  noised  out  the  Captain,  ponderingly.  "What 
are  your  terms.  Doctor  ?" 

"  Six  hundred  dollars  a  year,  if  I  have  to  board  myself  and  visit 
my  pupil  twice  a  day,  and  sometimes  at  night,  (for  1  expect  to  teach 
Astronomy)  through  all  seasons,  and  all  weather ;  or  two  hundred,  if 
I  board  in  the  family  with  my  pupil." 

'^ Why,  that  is  avast  difference.  Doctor." 

•'So  it  is:  but  I  detest  taverns  so  much,  that  'l  would  rather 
sacrifice  twice  the  price  of  board  than  board  in  one  at  any  price." 

"  But  you  can  find  private  boarding  in  the  village,  in  genteel 
houses,  for  much  le.ss  than  fuur  hundred  dollars." 

''Well,  if  you  prefer  it,  get  me  board  in  a  genteel  private  family 
and  add  to  the  tuition  as  much  as  it  may  be  less  than  four  hundred 
dollars ;  and  send  the  pupil  to  my  room,  instead  of  requiring  me  to 
go  to  his." 

"  Why  not  let  the  tuition  stand  at  tsvo  hundred  dollars,  and  we 
pay  your  board  ?" 

"  No  objections  in  the  world,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  board  where 
I  please,  and  allow  me  every  accommodation  that  I  could  have  at  a 
tavern,  and  sead  the  pupil  to  me.  I  understand  that  Mrs.  Norton 
is  a  nice  woman,   and  takes  boarders.     I  will  board  with  her  and 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  33 

pledge  myself  that  my  board  shall  not  cost  you  over  three  hun- 
dred dollars." 

"  Mrs.  Norton's  is  the  dearest.boarding  house  iu  town,  and  fully  one 
mile  from  my  sister's." 

"  Well,  if  too  far  for  the  scholar  to  walk,  how  much  harder  for 
me  to  walk  !  Nor  can  you  expect  me  to  let  you  choose  my  board- 
ing house,  and  fix  the  price  that  I  shall  pay  too  I  Allow  me  to  board 
at  Mis.  Norton's  and  I  will  knock  off  fifty  dollars  from  the  tuition." 

"  Or,  I  suppose,  allow  you  to  board  at  my  sister's  and  you  will  do 
the  same." 

The  Doctor  looked  as  if  he  had  committed  a  terrible  blunder ;  and 

after  a  little  halting  and  smiling,  he  replied  :  "  Well,  sir,  you've  got 

me  where  the  owl  had  the  hen  :  so  that  I  can  neither  back  nor  squall 

— of  course  I  will." 
« 

"Arc  you  willing  to  contract  for  s"x  months  on  trial  at  those 
rates  ?" 

"  Perfectly  willing — perfectly  willing — provided  you  will  engage 
not  to  turn  me  off  capriciously  at  the  end  of  six  months;  and  allow 
me  to  fix  the  time  of  our  connection,  by  our  next  contract,  if  I  de- 
port myself  to  your  satisfaction.  Dining  one  day  with  Thomas  Jef- 
ferson, and  Nathaniel  Macon,  the  latter  made  a  remark  which  I  have 
often  proved  the  value  of  since :  '•  In  making  a  contract,"  said  he 
"  always  have  a  little  of  it  on  your  own  side." 

"  Are  you  ac(juaintod  with  those  gentlemen  r"' 

The  Doctor  looked  provoked  at  himself,  for  having  made  the  re- 
mark, and  replied  in  a  courteous  but  hurried  manner  :  "  No  sir — 
that  is  not — no  sir.  no.  The  circumstances'  which  brought  us  to  the 
same  tiiblc,  were  purely  accidental.  Neither  of  them,  I  am  sure,  has 
now  the  most  distant  recollection  of  me  ;  though  we  did  interchange 
some  words  upon  that  occasion."  ^ 

'•  Well,  Doctor,  my  sister  and  I  will  confer  upon  the  matter  in 
hand,  and  if  jou  will  call  at  three  o'clock,  this  afternoon,  we  will  let 
you  know  our  decision." 

"  I  will  call  at  the  hour,"  said  the  Doctor  risiilg,  "  but  to  avoid 
any  unkind  feelings,  it  is  proper  that  I  should  apprise  you  of  my 
views  of  negotiations  of  this  kind.  When  I  msde  a  proposition, 
which  is  not  immediately  accepted,  I  do  not  consider  myself  bound 
by  it  afterwards.  If  time  bo  claimed  to  deliberate  upon  a  proposition 
of  mine,  I  claim  the  same  time  for  retracting.it  if  I   see  proper." 

"That  is  all  perfectly  fair,  Doctor — perfectly  fair." 

The  Doctor  withdrew ;  and  he  had  hardly  cleared  the  door  before 


34: 


MASTER    WILLIAM:   MIITEN. 


Mrs.  Mitten  begged  her  brothei  to  call  him  back,  and  close  the  bar- 
o-ain  immediately.  "  He  ^ees,"  says  she,  '-  where  you  entrapt  him, 
when  speaking  ©f  Mrs.  Norton,  and  his  last  remark  was  mad©  on 
purpose  to  help  him  out  of  the  difficulty." 

"  Anna,"  said  the  Captain,  "my  advice  to  you  is,  to  have  nothing 
to  do  with  this  man.  If  he  is  not  a  pickled  villain,  I'll  give  you  my 
head  for  a  foot-ball.  A  man  of  his  age  and  accomplishment  rua- 
ning  about  the  country  with  a  batch  of  old  rusty,  ragged  certificates 
in  his  pocket,  gathered  through  twenty  years,  not  one  of  which  ten 
years  old,  says  a  word  about  his  moral  character — willing  to  teach  for 
the  pitiful  sum  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  confessedly 
with  no  money  in  his  pocket !  Down  from  Vei'mont,  and  then  back 
VL^a'ici — then  South,  then  North,  then  here,  there,  and  every  where  ! 
He's  a  rascal — as  sure  as  you're  born  he's  a  rascal." 

"  Oh  !  brother  David,  what  uncliaritAble  beings  you  men  tre  ! 
Every  objection  you  raised  he  answered,  as  if  by  accident,  before 
you  I'uised  or  even  thought  of  them.  He  has  accounted  most  satis- 
factorily   and    nobly,   for  the    cheap    rate   at    which    ho    helds   his 

services — " 

"  — p-h-e-e-e-w !     He  from  Vermont  and  care  nothing  f»r  money  I 

A  literary  apostle  to  the  Southern  Gentiles,  moved  by  pare  love  of 
their  wondrous  virtues  !  So  devoted  to  them,  that  sickness  can't 
drive  him  away  from  them  !  Stuff,  smoke,  nonsense  !  He'll  breed 
mischief  in  your  house  as  sure  as  you  take  him  there." 

"  Brother  David,  are  you  going  to  let  slip  this  favorable  opportuni- 
ty of  getting  a  teacher  for  my  child  at  this  critical    period  of  his 

life,"— 

"  No,  I'm  going  to  let  you'  do  as  you  please.     If  you  want  him,  you 

shall  have   him  ;  and  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  with  him,  for  you ;  but 

once  more  I  pray  you  to  let  this  man  alone  ;  save  the  expense  of  tim 

and  the  danger  of  him,  andlsend  your  son  to  Mr.  Markham,  and  beg 


him  to  whip  the    devil  out 
ever  since  he  was  taken  from 


of  him,  that  has  been  getting  into  him 
school." 

"■  I  have  said  again  and  agjiin,  and  1  now  s^y  once  for  all,  that  my 
child  shall  not  go  to  Mr.  Mafkha-ra."  „ 

"Very  well,  I'll  engage  Tjvattle.  Take  him  KM"  six  months  first, 
and  you  will  be  sure  of  his  doing  well,  for  ^hat  time  at  least;  but 
look  out  for  squalls,  afterwards." 

This  was  agreed  to,  aiid  Mr.  Twattlc  wa9  doployed  upon  the 
terms  and  conditions  already  intimated.  That  is  to  say,  for  six 
months,  at  the  rate  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  per  annum. — 
Mrs.  Mitten  to  boai;d  jaim,  and  he  to  fix  the  terms  of  his  next  en- 
o-accment.  .  • 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Dr.  Twattle  deported  himself  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  Mrs. 
Mitten  for  six  months.  He  had  noi  been  in  her  house  one  month, 
before  he  completely  captivated  the  whelc  fiimily.  So  dii^nified  and 
easy  was  he  in  his  manners,  so  neat  in  his  person,  so  courteous  and 
respectful  to  the  ladies,  so  rich  in  knowledge,  so  pleasant  in  anecdote, 
so  attentive  to  his  business,  and  so  careless  of  sordid  lucre — in  short, 
so  perfectly  did  he  come  up  to  the  IMittcu-standard  of  the  gentleman 
and  the  scholar,  that  he  was  soon  admitted  to  all  tiic  rights,  privileges 
and  immunities  of  a  near  connection,  in  the  family.  The  girls  called 
him  Uncle  Ticatt.  William  called  him  Father  Tivachly.  And  Mrs. 
^Mitten  called  him  Good  Man,  and  Good  Doctor,  and  burdened  him 
with  deliciicies  for  the  palate.  The  Captain  watched  him  closely; 
but  was  constrained'  to  say,  greatly  to  the  delight  of  his  sister,  that 
he  didn't  know  but  that  he  had  misjudged  the  man.  '•  Certainly,  " 
added  he,  ''  if  he  is  au  iuiposte;',  he  is  +.ho  most  ficcoinpli.'^lied  one 
that  I  ever  met  with  ;  and  I  have  seen  not  a  few.'' 

"  And  now.  brother,"  said  Mrs.  M.,  "  I  hope  }ou'll  acknowledge 
that  /or  once  in  your  Hie,  I  was  right  and  you  were  wrong." 

*''  Not  yet,  Anna.  Any  rogue  may  be  clever  for  a  few  months.  I 
will  admit,  however,  that  hf,  does  better  tham  I  expected,  even  thus 
far." 

The  Doctor's  first  quarter's  salary  ths  paid ;  and  he  laid  it  nearly 
ull  out  in  presents  for  Mrs.  Mitten,  her  daughters  and  son. 

"  (rood  I)octor,'''  saii  she,  "  if  you  could  turn  these  things  to  any 
use,  I  would  insist  i^n  your  keeping  them ;  for  it  looks  like  down 
right  robbery  to  take  them  from  your  scanty  means." 

"  I  only  regret  that  my  scanty  means  in  hand  will  not  allow  me  to 
double  them,  Mrs.  Mitten." 

•'  How  would  you  do  m  case  of  sickness  or  mi.sfertune  r  ' 

'*  I  have  had  for  mauy  years  a  little  fifnd  hud  up  to  meet  these 
contingencies — some  ten  or  twelve  thousand  dollars,  or  such  a  matter. 
This,  small,  as  it  is,  will  bear  me  through  a  long  s[>eli  9:'  bickuess 
gently  to  thq  grave;  or  keep  me  above  want,  should  I  linger  on  the 
shorea  of  time  af^er  I  become  too  old  tu  be  uaoful,  or  to  labor  in  my 
vocation.  When  thrown  upon  that  (fund,  i  shall  chfi^ge  my  chai-ac- 
ter — my  liberality  will  end ;  but  until  forced  upon  it,  why  desire  to 


36  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

increase  it.  So  little  do  I  think  of  it,  while  I  am  able  to  mak«  a 
living  without  it,  that  I  hardly  count  it  as  a  part  of  my  estate.  It 
mi«^ht  as  well  not  be,  for  I  shall  probably  die  before  I  need  it,  and  I 
certainly  never  shall  touch  it  until  I  do  need  it.  For  several  years 
I  have  not  ei/in  drawn  the  interest  upon  it." 

"  Suppose  you  were  to  die  suddenly,  to  whom  would  you  leave  it?" 

"  To  How.e  of  the  many  beloved  pupils  whom  I  have  taught  j  or  to 
some  one  that  I  might  be  teaching  when  death  arrests  me." 

^'  Have  you  no  near  connections,  Doctor?" 

"None  nearer  than  fourth  cousins,  madam;  and  these  are  so 
profligate  and  abandoned,  particularly  the  one  who  bears  my  name, 
that  I  never  wish  t»  see  them  again." 

'^  Were  you  never  married,  Doctor  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam,  for  a  short  time;  but " 

"  Pardon  me,  Doctor,  for  touching  that  tender  chord.  I  see  that 
I  have  inadvertently  revived  long  buried  griefs." 

"  You  are  very  excusable,  madam — your  question  was  a  very 
natural  one  in  its  place.  At  another  time  I  will  give  you  the  history 
of  my  married  life,  as  long  as  my  dear  Anna  lived.  For  the  present, 
suffice  it  to  Sdy  that  the  little  pittance  of  which  I  was  just  speaking 
came  by  her ;  and  upon  her  death,  I  set  it  apart  as  a  consecrated 
fund,  never  to  be  touched,  while  I  could  live  without  it.  You  have 
here  another  and  the  jjviucipal  reason  why  I  never  speak  of  that  fund 
as  my  own.  But  I  have  yet  another :  If  the  world  knew  of  i(,  I 
should  be  harrassed  and  have  my  feelings  lacerated  incessantly  and 
insuflFerably,  with  idle  questions  about  my  manner  ot  life,  while  I 
have  the  means  to  live  witho^it  labor,  as  though  it  were  not  every 
man's  duty  to  labor  in  some  useful  calling,  while  he  is  able  to  do  it." 

"  1  fully  approve  3'our  conduct.  Doctor ;  and  I  shall  keep  sacred 
the  secret  which  my  reprehensible  curiosity  hA  dragged  from  you." 

"  Thank  you,»madam ;  but  pray  take  no  blame  to  yourself  for  your 
curiosity;. it  rose  as  naturally  from  the  current  of  your  conversation 
as  the  bubble  rises  from  the  agitated  fountain." 

Mrs.  Mitten  possessed  too  kind  a  heart  to  receive  presents  from 
the  Doctor  without  returning  them  with  in'erest. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  month,  Mrs.  Mitten  proposed  to  give  a 
large  tea-party,  for  the  express  purpose  of  introducing  the  Doctor  to 
the  villagers,  male  and  female  ;  but  he  begged  her  not  to  do  it.  "  I 
cannot,"  said  he,  ''  reciprocate  hospitalities,  and  I  should  be  pained 
to  receive  attentions  which  I  cannot  return.     I  am  fond  of  company, 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEX.  37 

but  for  the  reason  just  given,  witli  others,  I  rather  avoid  company 
than  seek  it." 

"  I  have  noticed  that,  Doctor.  Yon  hardly  ever  leave  the  house 
in  the  day  time,  while  you  often  take  rccreatiou-ramblcs  at  night." 

"  Just  SO;  madam ;  but  there  is  a  better  reason  than  that:  the  day 
is  yours,  (or  your  son's)  ;  the  night  is  mine." 

Considering  that  William  never  rose  till  breakfast  time  in  th« 
morning,  and  was  out  almost  cyery  night  to  a  late  hour,  he  made  very 
rapid  progress  in  his  studies  under  Doctor  Twattle.  His  mother  had 
committed  him  to  the  entire  direction  of  his  teacher,  and  as  night  was 
the  recreation  hour,  he  could  not  object  to  his  pupil's  following  his 
example. 

A  little  incident  occurred  iu  the  first  month  of  the  Doctor's 
tutorship  which  must  not  be  passed  over  in  silence,  as  it  produced 
important  results  in  the  eod. 

One  morning  Mrs.  Glib  called  on  Mrs.  Mitten,  and,  after  the  usual 
salutations  and  interrogatories,  said  :  * 

"I  am  told  Mrs.  Mitten  that  you  are  delighted  with  your  new 
teacher." 

"  I  am,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  M. 

"  Well,  I've  come  over  to  see  if  he  can't  take  ray  boya  too.  They 
and  William  have  become  so  much  attached  to  one  another,  that  it 
seems  a  pity  to  separate  them.  I  have  discovered"  (lowering  her 
voice  to  a  confidential  pitch)  "that  Mr.  Toper  drinki.  That  good 
brother  of  yours  spoke  but  too  truly  when  he  charged  ]\Ir.  Toper  with 
drinking,  ixow,  I  will  pay  three-fourths  of  Dr.  IVattle's  salary  if 
ho  will  take  my  boys  iu  with  William  ;  and  that  will  bring  William's 
tuition  down  to  almost  nothing." 

"  But  will  you  board  the  Doctor  three-fourths  of  the  time  ?" 

"  Certainly  I  will." 

"  But  he  will  not  be  willing  to  teach  four  boys  for  the  price  he  gets 
for  one." 

'^  AVell,  I'll  l«t  his  wages  stand  at  what  they  are ;  and  I  will  double 
them  for  my  thr«o  boys,  and  board  him  half  the  time." 

"  But  how  will  we  do  ?  I  can't  consent  for  William  to  go  to  your 
house  to  be  taught." 

"  Well,  the  teaching  may  all  be  done  at  your  house." 

'•  But  I  know  that  Doctor  Twattle  would  not  be  willing  to  come 
from  your  house  to  mine  to  teach." 

"  Well,  then,  he  may  stay  altogether  at  yours,  aud  I  will  pay  part 
of  his  board." 

D  > 


38  MASTER    WILLIAM   MIITEN. 

'"Oh,  Mrs.  Glib,  I  coxildn't  think  of  taking  pay  for  board  from 

you." 

''  Well,  what  plan  would  you  suggest.  It's  cruel  to  part  the  boys, 
for  they  can  hardly  live  out  of  each  other's  sight." 

''  I  really  do  not  see  how  it  will  be  possible  to  arrange  it — I  dcn't 
think  it  can  possibly  be  done." 

"  Suppose  you  iarite  him  down,  Mrs.  Mitten  ;  and  let  us  talk  over 
the  whole  matter,  and  se3  if  we  can't  fix  it  so  that  the  boys  may  be 
togetlicr." 

To  this  propo,'5ition  Mrs.  Mitten  readily  assented,  for  she  was  very 
confident  that  Doctoj  Twattle  would  not,  npon  any  terms,  consent  to 
take  the  young  Glibs.  Accordingly,  he  was  invited  down,  and  in- 
troduced to  Mrs.  Glib. 

''  I  have  called,  Doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Glib,  "to  see  if  you  would  not 
be  willing  to  take  my  three  boys  under  jour  instruction  with  Master 
"William.  Mrs.  Mitten  and  I  are  like  sisters,  and  our  children  like 
brothers,  and  i?  you  would  consent  to  take  my  children,  you  would 
greatly  accommodate  us  all  round." 

'•  Certainly,  madam,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  if  Mrs.  Mitten  desires  it, 
I  will  take  them  with  pleasure  ;  but  being  under  contract  with  hei-,  I 
can  of  course  do  nothing  without  her  consent." 

'^  Bui  how  could  it  be  arranged,  Doctor  ?" 

"  Jusi.  as  you  and  Mrs.  Glib  may  choose." 

"  Would  you  be  willing  to  board  part  of  the  time  with  Mi's.  Glib  ?" 

"I  would  rather  not  change  my  boarding  house;  but  if  Mrs, 
Mitten  desires  it,  I  will  even  do  that." 

'<  Oh,  no,  Doctor,  T  do  not  desire  to  put  you  to  that  inconvenience; 
besides  I  should  feel  that  I  was  violating  my  contract  if,  I  did  not 
board  you  all  the  time  I" 

''  Well,  then.  Doctor,  how  would  this  suit  ?  You  board  here  all  the 
time,  and  I  pay  Mrs.  Mitten  half  your  board  ?" 

<'  Very  well,  indeed,  madam.  I  should  prefer  that  to  moving  from 
house  to  house." 

"  But  I  couldn't  take  money  from  Mrs.  Glib,  Doctor,  for  board. 
And  suppose  we  were  to  make  that  arrangement,  how  would  it  be  as 
to  tuition  ?  I  suppose  you  would  ask  four  times  as  much  for  teaching 
four  as  you  do  for  teaching  one." 

"  That  would  be  equitable ;  but  I  will  not  f^tickle  about  prices,  if  I 
can  accommodate  the  friend  of  one  who  has  been  such  a  kind  friend 
to  me,  as  Mrs.  Mitten  has  been." 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEX.  89 

"  But  where  would  you  toach,  Doctor  ?  At  uiy  house  or  Mrs. 
Glib's  r 

"  Just  as  you  may  say,  Mrs.  Mitk;\i." 

"  So  you  see,  Cousin  Mif,"  (so  Mrs.  G.  in  her  playful  moods  called 
Mrs.  Mitten)  "  that  the  whole  matter  is  in  your  hands,  and  you  are 
to  say  whether  my  poor  boys  are  to  get  au  education  or  not." 

"  Just  here,  when  Mrs.  Mitten  was  getting  into  an  inextricable 
entanglement,  a  bright  thought  Htruok  her,  which  relieved  her  from 
all  difficulty,  and  in  the  transports  of  which  she  compromised  her 
piety  a  little. 

"Well,"  said  she,  "we  can  arrange  this  matter  i^atisficlorily,  pro- 
tided  brother  David  will  give  his  consent  that*  Do  tor  T wattle  shall 
take  other  children  under  his  charge  besides  William.  But  i/ou 
know,  Doctor,  that  he  has  had  the  whole  management  of  this  business 
in  his  own  hands,  and  I  would  not  dare  to  move  an  inch  in  it  without 
his  consent.  I  will  submit  the  matter  to  him,  and  if  he  consicnts,  I 
will  most  cheerfully  consent  that  you  t:ike  Mrs.  Glib's  sons  under 
your  instruction."* 

"  Oh,  well/'  said  Mrs.  Glib,  "  I  have  no  fear  but  that  he  will  give 
his  consent.  You  know  Mrs.  Mitten  he  stcpj^ied  forward,  unasked,  to 
assist  my  children,  upon  no  othei-  condition  than  that  they  gave  him 
a  promise  :  and  that  promise  they  have  all  kept  most  honorably  and 
rdigtoudi/.^' 

"  Very  well  ;  whatever  brother  David  says  I  Vvill  do  Mrs.  Glib ; 
that  I  will  promise  you." 

"And  whatever  Mrs.  Mitten  says,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  I  Mill  do." 

"  I  shall  see  brother  I'^avld  to-d.iy,  Mrs.  Glib,  and  let  you  know  to- 
morrow what  he  says;" 

Here  the  company  separated,  all  perfecrly  satisfied. 

"  Well,  certainly,"  soliloquized  Mr.«.  Mitten,  when  I^Irs.  Glib  left 
the  house,  •'  that  is  the  most  trying  won.an  tlmt  ever  was  born.  She 
keeps  me  everlastingly  in  hot  water.      Cousin  Mlt .'" 

It  was  not  until  the  next  morning  that  brother  David  appeared  at 
his  sister's.  He  had  no  sooner  arrv^^l  (h:in  Mr;-.  Hiitt.-n  made 
known  the  dc.'iires  of  Mrs.  Glib. 

"  Oh,  yc=!,"  said  he,  "  take  the  angels  by  all  mcms  '." 

"  But  T  wish  -you  to  be  .*erious,  brother.  Mrs.  Glib  has  :r  y  ji-!edee 
that  the  matter  shall  be  submitted  to  you,  iind  I  have  promised  her  to 
abide  by  your  dec'sion." 

"You  have!  Well,  tell  Mrs.  Glib  that  T  am  perr.ctly  delighted 
at  the  idea  of  havimg  my  n(*il  e  7  in   conhtant  a*80caticn  with  ber 


40  MASTER    WILLIAM  'MITTEN. 

lovely  boys,  and  nobody  else  !  That  rather  than  lose  so  fine  an 
opportunity  of  adyancing  the  interest  of  luy  nephew,  I  will  send  the 
young  gentlemen  to  school  every  day  in  my  carriage — Good  moraing, 
sis,ter." 

f'  Stop  brother — if  you  have  any  regard  for  me,  don't  leave  me 
with  such  a  message  to  Mrs.  Glib" — Lord  bless  my  soul  and  body, 
yonder  she  is  coming  now  !  Brother  David  !  Brother,  if  you  have 
one  particle  of  love  or  respect  for  your  poor  widowed  sister  come 
back/' 

''  Weil,  what  do  you  want  ?" 

"  Do  you  seriously  desire  me  to  bear  that  message  to  Mrs.  Glib  ? 
I  know  you  do  not.     Then  speak  with  your  usual  frankness." 

''  Well,  you  are  certainly  the  strangest  woman  that  ever  was  born. 
You  are  forever  asking  my  advice,  and  never  taking  it.  I  had  al- 
most resolved  to  give  you  no  more  advice ;  but  as  you  seem  afflicted 
by  this,  I'll  reverse  it ;  which  I  do  seriously.  Tell  Mrs.  Glib  that  I 
object  to  Twattle's  taking  any  more  children  while  he  is  under  con- 
tract to  teach  William  alone — I  will  not  have  his  a#tentious  divided. 
And  tell  her,  moreover,  that  I  had  just  as  lief  see  a  polecat,  a  rattle- 
snake and  a  hyena  come  into  the  house  as  her  three  children ." 

''  Now,  you've  gone  too  far  again  !  Do,  my  dear  brother,  revoke 
the  last  part — see,  she's  most  here" — 

"  Very  well,  I  revoke  it.     Good  moi-ning  !" 

He  had  net  left  the  house  two  minutes  before  Mr.^.  Glib  entered  it. 

"  Well,  "  said  she,  "  I  saw  your  brother  retire  as  I  came  up,  and 
I  suppose  you  know  his  will  concerning  the  boys  ?" 

''  Oh,  yes,  Mrs.  Glib ;  and  he  won't  hear  to  the  Doctor's  taking 
any  more  children  while  he  is  under  contract  to  William.  He 
wishes  William  to  have  all  his  attentions." 

''  He  doss!"  said  Mrs.  G.,  biting  hor  lip  and  patting  her  foot. 

"■  Yes,  ma'am.     He  seemed  very  positive." 

"  I  suppose  that  gives  i/ou  very  great  pain — Good  morning,  Mrs. 
Mitten  !" 

"  Why,  you're  not  going  so  soon  !" 

"  Yes,  madam;  I  just  run  over  to  know  Capt.  Thompson's  edicts. 

"Now,  we've  (to  have  new  troufele  ?"  mused  Mrs.  M.  as  Mrs.  G. 
left  the  house.  And  she  hit  it  exactly.  In  less  than  three  months 
after  this  date,  a  very  strange  report  was  Avhispered  about  in  secret 
places  of  the  village.  And  what,  gentle  reader,  do  you  think  it  was? 
"  Why  that  Twattle  was  courting  the  widow  Mitten."  No,  that  was 
not  it ;  but  that  the  widow  Mitten  was  oeurting  Twattle  ! !     It  was  a 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  41 

Blander,  of  course.  The  -widow  Mitten  was  not  the  woman  to  court 
anybody — i.  e.,  mafrinionially. 

About  a  iroritb  before  the  first  tenn  of  Doctor  Twattle's  service 
expired,  he  spent  several  evenings  with  Mrs.  Glib,  who,  the  reader 
has  long  since  discovered,  (though  T  believe  I  forgot  to  tell  hira  so,) 
was  a  widow  too.  Tier  given  name  was  Bridget ;  but  not  liking  it  as 
she  grew  up,  she  added  an  "n'  to  it,  so  as  *o  make  it  more  romantic. 
She  was  rich,  and  for  her  years  remarkably  handsome. 

In  these  visits  Mrs.  Glib  offo.rDd  the  Doctor  many  inducements  tb 
close  nis  contract  with  Mrs.  Milton  at  the  end  of  his  engagement, 
and  make  a  more  advantageous  one  with  her.  How  the  Doctor  re- 
ceived her  overtures  is  n©t  known;  but  it  is  certaia  that  Mrs.  Glib 
cherished  the  idea  that  after  .'inothcr  short  engagcmeut  with  Mrs. 
Mitten,  he  would  be  at  her  service ;  an  idea  that  was  strengthened 
by  the  fact  that  when  he  came  to  renew  his  engagement  he  limited 
it  to  only  four  months. 

It  was  not  without  alarms  that  Mrs.  Mitten  obserred  the  growing 
intimacy  of  Mrs.  Glib  and  Dr.  Twattlo ;  and  wlien  he  limited  the 
time  of  his  second  engagement  to  four  mouths,  instead  of  a  year  or 
more,  as  she  had  expected,  her  rrfarms  were  increased.  No  change, 
however,  was  observed  in  the  Doctor's  conduct  •  and  nothing  of 
higher  interest  occurred  for  the  first  two  months,  than,  that  Mrs. 
Mitten  in  taking  one  of  Master-  William's  coats  to  mend,  found  a 
'pack  of  cards  in  one  of  the  pockets,  which  discovery  she  reported  to 
his  teacher,  who  promised  to  cure  him  of  all  love  of  cards  by  parental 
reproof  and  kind  counsels. 

The  third  month  of  the  second  term  had  just  passed,  when  a  re- 
port spread  all  over  the  village  that  Doctor  Twattle  and  Mrs.  ]Mitten 
were  certainly  engaged  to  be  married.  It  no  sooner  reaehad  her 
brother's  e^rs  than  ho  hasteced  to  her,  to  put  her  upon  her  guard, 
lest  in  her  well  known  admiration  of  the  Doctor,  she  might  say  or  do 
something  tending  to  encourage  tho  j-eport.  To  his  surprise,  he 
found  her  unmoved  by  her  brother's  disclosure.  "If  people  choose 
to  talk  about  me,"  said  she,  "  let  them  talk.  It  would  be  no  dis- 
credit to  me  to  marry  such  a  man  a's  Doctor  Twattle,  I'm  sure,  for  he 
has  e-very  quality  that  any  woman  could  desire  in  a  husband,  and  not 
a  fault  that  I  have  been  enabled  to  discover." 

"  Where  is  he  r"'  said  the  Captain,  "I'll  pack  him  off,  if  it  co.'.'ts 
me  my  life." 

"And  if  we  were  going  to  be  )narricd,  do  you  think  that  would 
stop  it?     I  assure  you  it  wnuld  not." 


42  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

"  Very  Tvell,  take  your  course  !  I  zee  plainly  the  report  is 
true.  I  have  one  piece  of  advice  to  give  you,  and  it  is  the  last  that 
I  ever  expect  to  give  ^ou.  Have  your  property  secured  to  yourself 
and  your  children.  If  you  don't,  every  shilling  of  it  will  go  to  him 
as  soon  as  you  are  married  ;  and  do  not  beggar  yourself  and  them  to 
enrich  a  stranger." 

''Rest  assured,  if  we  get  married,  that  will  be  done;  and  if  it 
were  not,  the  good  Doctor  would  not  touch  one  dollar  of  it  without 
Biy  consent.  Of  this  I  have  the  most  satisfactory  proof.  But  I 
have  heard  him  say,  that  if  he  should  ever  marry  again,  while  ke 
would  have  no  woman  who  would  not  trust  her  property,  with  her 
person  to  his  care,  yet  that  when  both  were  commkted  to  his  charge, 
he  would  always  consider  the  wife  txs  his,  but  the  property  as  hors; 
and  for  fear  of  accidents,  he  would  immediately  afterwards  settle  her 
property  on  her.  Not  before,  because  there  would  be  no  merit  in 
doing  it  then,  and  great  demerit  in  his  betrothed  to  request  it." 

''  Why,  Anna,  he's  a  scoundrel  as  sure  as  you  are  born,  and  I  feel 
strongly  tempted  to  cut  his  tin-oat.  If  you're  bent  upon  marrying 
him,  as  I  see  you  are,  let  me  bring  a  lawyer  here  and  have  your 
property  secured  to  you  immediately." 

"  What  is  the  use  of  doing  that,  when  it  is  certain  that  he'll  make 
no  such  contract?" 

"  And,  therefore,  you're  going  to  marry  him  without  one  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  I'm  not  going  to  lose  my  property  for  all  that,  brother.* 
I  know  Doctor  Twattle  much  better  than  you  know  him ;  and  if  I 
were  at  liberty  to  give  you  his  history,  you  would  not  even  ask  me 
to  require  a  marriage-contract  of  him — I  know  you  would  not." 

Just  here  the  young  ladies,  wlio  had  overheard  the  conversation, 
made  their  appearance  in  tears. 

"I  would,"  said  Miss  Jane,  ''rather  Ma  should  marry  Uncle 
Twattle  tlian  anybody  else,  if  she  will  marry,  but  I  never  can  see 
my  poor  dear  father's  place = " 

"  Hold  your  tongue  I"  said  Mrs.  M.,  sharply. 

"Ma,  you  can't  blame  us,"  said  Miss  Ann,  "for  not  wishing  to 
see  oar  dear  departed  father's " 

"  Hush,  I  tell  you  !  and  speak  when  you're  spoken  to." 

"  Oh^  sister,"  saici  the  Captain,  "  do  let  the  children  have  their 
opinions.  I  should  think  they  might  express  their  ojnnions  of  even 
Mr.  Saint  Twattle,  without  having  their  heads  snapped  off." 

Mrs.  M.  was  in  no  humor  for  this  retort  just  at  this  time,  and  she 


MASTKR  willia:^  mittex.  43 

showed  more  indepcndeuce  and  temper  thau  she  had  evinced  for 
many  long  years. 

'MVoll,"  said  she,  "I'm  my  own  mistress,  and  I'll  mairy  who  I 
please,  if  all  the  brothers  and  children  in  the  world  should  oppose 
it."     So  saying  she  hurried  from  the  room. 

'^Well,  young  ladies,  I  hope  you've  got  a  teacher  to  your  liking 
now  !"  said  the  Captain. 

The  girls  each  seized  a  hand  of  the  Captain,  and  begged  his  for- 
giveness for  opposing  his  advi,ce  to  their  mother,  and  promised  more 
for  the  future  thau  the  Captain  could  have  required.  lie  withdrew 
his  right  hadd  from  Anna's  embrace,  and  turned  his  eyes  away  from 
them,  as  if  looking  for  something  that  he  did'nt  wish  to  find,  and  with 
his  middle  finger  pressed  something  from  both,  that  he  manifestly 
wished  to  conceal. 

"Oh,  ray  di-arest,  dearest  uncle,"  said  Jane,  ''our  father,  our 
only,  our  best  counsellor!  Will  you  not  do  something  to  stt^  this 
match  ?"  • 

"I  don't  know  what  I  can  do,"  said  the  Captain,  striving  to  dis.9i- 
pate  or  hide  his  feelings  by  rough  words,  '•  unless  it  is  to  cut  the 
scoundrel's  throat,  to  which  E  feel  strongly  tempted." 

"  No,  uncle,  no.     Use  no  violence " 

Here  William  came  in  whistling  "  Y'lnkee  Doodle," 

"You  young  scoundrel!"  said  the  Captain,  "you've  brought 
things  to  a  pretty  pa^s  !     Would  God  jou  had  died  at  your  birth." 

"  Why,  what- have  I  done,  uncle  ?" 

"  You've  filled  your  mother's  heart  with  anguish  ever  since  you 
quit  JMarkham's  school ;  and  you've  brought  into  the  house  a  man 
who  is  going  to  beggar  her  nnd  all  her  children." 

"  I  did'nt  bring  him,  uncle.  You  know  I  was  willing  to  go  back 
to  Mr.  Markham." 

"Well,  to  "do  you  justice — but  what  have  you  been  at  ever  since! 

Disturbing  prayer-meetinsg,  you little  rascal,  and  running  into 

all  manner  of  iniqirtties  !  You'll  come  t<>  the  gallows  as  sure  as  your 
name's  J3iU  Mitten,  you  young  dog!  Do  you  know  your  mother'j 
going  to  marry  Twattlc  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  he  told  me  about  it  long  ago;  but  said  he  would'ut  do 
it  if  T  objected " 

*'  If  1/ou  objected  !  If  ym  objected.  And  I  suppose  your  Royal 
Majesty  gave  your  consent?" 

"  I  told  hira,"  said  liill,  with  humility,  for  he  had  never  seen  his 


44  MASTER  WILLIAM    MITTEN. 

uncle  in  sucli  a  terrific  state  of  mind  before,  "  ttat  if  lie  loved  Ma, 
and  Ma  loved  him  as  mucli  ae  he  said  they  did " 

"  Clear  out  of  the  house,  you  young  rascal,  or  I'll "     (Bill 

scampered.)     "  Don't  you  see  the  deep,  designing  knave  and  hypo- 
crite, in  everything  he  does!     Usiag  a  child — hie  pupil .     I'll 

smoke  the  viper  out  of  his  hole  !"  so  saying  he  rushed  up  to  Twattle's  ■ 
room  amidst  the  screams  of  the  girls. 

He  knocked  at  the  door,  but  received  no  response, 

"  You  may  as  well  open  the  door,  Mr.  Hell-cat,  tor  .711  come  in  if 
I  have  to  break  it  down." 

After  a  short  pause,  and  bo  voice  from  within,  he  forced  open  the 
door ;  and  behold,  the  Doctor  was  not.  in !  lie  went  in  search  of 
him,  but  luckily  did  not  find  him  till  his  fury  abated.  He  went 
home  and  took  his  bed;  for  the  excitement  had  brought  on  a  smart 
fever. 


CHAPTER  V.      . 

At  the  close  of  the  last  chapter,  the  reader  will  remember  that  we 
left  Mrs.  Mitten  resolved  to  marry  Twattle,  against  the  wished  of 
brother  and  daughters — Capt.  Thompson  sick  in  bed.  from  over  ex- 
citement— his  two  nieces  in  tears — Billy  comfortable,  and  his  teacher 
missing.  How  did  Twattle  happen  to  be  out. of  his  room  in  the  day 
time  ?  Doubtless,  Mrs.  ]V[itten  had  advised  him  to  take  an  airing, 
while  her  brother  was  swelling.  Current  as  was  the  report  of  the 
intended  marriage,  and  strengthened  as  it  was  by  what  had  passed 
between  Capt.  Thompson  and  his  sister,  Mrs.  Glib  did  not  believe  it. 
"  Mark  what  I  tell  you,"  she  would  say,  with  a  great  deal  of  self- 
complacency,  "  it  will  never  take  place." 

Her  visits  to  Mrs.  Mitten  had  not  entirely  ceased  from  the  last 
which  we  have  noticed ;  but  they  had  become  much  less  frequent, 
and  much  less  cordial  than  before.  And  when  she  heard  of  what  had 
passed  between  Thompson  and  his  sister,  at  their  last  meeting,  she 
appeared  rather  pleased  than  pained  by  it. 

Captain  Thompson  had  kept  his  bed  two  days,  when  the  Post- 
master of  the  village  visited  lUm  with  a  letter  in  his  hand,  and 
mystery  in  his  face. 

"  I  have  come  over,"  said  the  Postmaster,  "  to  make  Aiquiries  of 
you  concerning  Mr.  Twattle.  Here  is  a  letter  from  a  Mr.  Charter 
Sanders,  written  at  Athens,  mailed  at  Lexington,  and  requesting  an 
immediate  answer  directed  to  Wasliington ;  enquiring,  whether  there; 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  45 

is  not  a  man  here  by  the  name  of  Twattle ;  and  whether  he  goes  by 
the  name  of  John,  Jacob,  Joseph,  James,  Jeremiah,  or  any  other 
given  name  beginning  with  a  'Jj'  and  requesting  a  particular  de- 
scription of  him.  The  writer  begs  me  to  say  nothing  about  this 
letter;  but  as  I  hardly  know  Twattle,  I  have  come  to  you  for  the 
information  required,  as  well  as  to  let  you  know  that  there  is  pro- 
bably something  wrong  in  this  Twattle,  whom  report  says  your  sister 
is  about  to  marry." 

"The  dirty  scoundrel!"  exclaimed  the  Captain,  "it  now  occurs 
to  me  that  every  certificate  which  he  produced,  I  believe  without  a 
solUary  exception,  save  two  which  Doctored  him,  was  in  behalf  of 
'J'  Twattle;  and  the  rogue's  going  through  the  country  under  every 
name  that  '  J  '  is  the  initial  of.  Set  down  here,  and  answer  it  im- 
mediately; and  don't  whisper  a  word  about  that  letter  to  any 
one  else." 

It  was  done  accordingly;  but  unfortunately,  the  gentlemen  had 
not  noticed  a  servant  girl  who  was  in  attendance  on  the  Captain ; 
during  the  conversation,  and  before  the  answer  was  finished,  the 
servant  informed  Miss  Jane  that  Charter  Sanders,  "  who  lived  in 
Washington,  had  written  about  Mr.  Twattle,  and  said  his  name  was 
John,  Jim,  and  a  heap  more  names,  and  that  he  was  a  dirty  scoun- 
dfel."  Miss  Jane  hastened  home,  and  conveyed  the  information  to 
her  mother,  and  her  mother  to  Twattle. 

He  received  it  with  a  smile,  mingled  with  a  little  indignation,  and 
observed  : 

"  That  worthless  fourth  cousin  of  mine,  Mrs.  Mitten  !  He  keeps 
me  making  explanations  wherever  I  go.  I  hope  Sanders  will  find 
him,  and  bring  him  to  justice.  Now,  I  must  post  off  to  Washington, 
to  see  Mr.  Sandars,  or  lie  under  the  suspicions  of  the  town  until  he 
comes  here.     Is  your  brother  able  to  leave  his  bed  yet  V 

"No  sir;  but  he  is  better,  and  I  hope  to  see  him  out  in  two  or 
three  days." 

This  day,  and  the  next,  the  Doctor  was  out  more  than  usual; 
and  the  day  following  he  was  missing. 

About  this  time,  the  impression  became  general  that  the  Doctor 
had  run  away.  Mrs.  Mitten  became  very  uneasy;  and  Mrs.  Glib 
came  over  to  console  her.  ^ 

"  Did  he  make  no  explanations  to  you  ?"  said  Mrs.  Glib. 

II  None  about  leaving;  though  I  know  what  took  him  away." 

"  Why,  he  explained  the  whole  matter  to  me." 

"  That  is   very  strange  I'' 


46  PIASTER    WILLIAM   illTTEN. 

"You  may  rest  perfectly  easy,  Mrs.  Mitten;  he  will  return  next 
Thursday  week." 

"  Why,  it  should  not  take  him  that  long  to  go  to  Washington  and 
back." 

"  Washington  !  He's  not  gone  to  Washington  ;  he's  gone  to 
South  Carolina  to  receive  a  valuable  rice  plantation,  which  his  lawyer 
writes  he  has  recovered  for  him  in  that  State." 

"  How  did  he  go  ?" 

"  I  sold  him  a  horso.  I  offered  to  loan  him  one;  but  he  said  he 
never  borrowed  a  horse  for  more  than  a  day.  He  could  have  no 
peade  on  a  journey  of  a  week,  upon  a  borrowed  horse,  for  fear  of  ac- 
cidents and  delaj-s  that  might  injure  the  animal  or  incommode  the 
owner." 

"  What  did  he  give  you  for  him  ?" 

"More  thau  I  asked,  by  fifty  dollars;  and  when  I  objected  to  re- 
ceiving more  than  my  price,  (which  was  up  to  the  full  value  of  the 
horse,)  he  begged  me  to  accept  it,  '  as  an  earnest  of  further  and 
larger  favors  that  he  meant  to  show  me  ;',,  so  he  gave  me  his  note  for 
two  hundred  dollars." 

'•'  His  note  !     Why,  he  had  money,  I  know." 

"Yes;  he  told  me  you  had  been  kind  enough  to  advance  him 
thirty-two  dollars  and  a  half  since  the  last  contract  with  him ;  Trat 
that,  he  said,  would  hardly  bear  his  expenses  to  Charleston;  sol 
loaned  him  three  hundred  dollars  to  pay  his  lawyer's  fees." 

"  Mrs.  Crlib,  he's  an  imposter;  and  we  have  both  been  made  the 
dvpes  of  his  villainy,  as   sure  as  you  live." 

"  Now,  how  it  would  distress  you  if  I  were  to  tell  the  Doctor  that, 
on  his  return,  cousin  Slit." 

"No.  it  wouldn't  in  the  least.  He'll  never,  return,  unless  he  is 
brought  by  Mr.  Sanders." 

"  What  Mr.  Sanders  ?" 

"Why,  haven't  you  heard  of  the  letter  from  Mr.  Sanders,  inquir- 
ing about  him,  and  representing  him  as  a  scoundrel,  and  I  know  not 
what  all  ?" 

"  Why,  no.     Is  there  such  a  letter  in  town  ?" 

"  To  be  sure  there  is." 

«  Well,  if  1  had  known  of  such  a  letter,  Mrs.  Mitten,  I  would 
have  told  yow  of  it." 

"  I  have  had  no  opportunity  of  telling  you  of  it." 

"  But  I  can  hardly  think  him  an  imposter,  after  all,  Mrs.  Mitten. 
Have  you  any  reason  to  think  him  so  ?" 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MIITEN.  47 

"  Yes,  abundant  reason.  On  the  day  be  left,  be  borrowed  two 
bundred  and  fifty  dollars  of  mo — all  I  bad — telling  me  that  be 
bad  just  discovered  where  a  distant  relation  of  bis  was,  who  under 
his  name,  was  imposing  upon  people  everywhere,  and  constantly 
bringing  him  into  discredit;  and  that,  if  be  could  borrow  five  hun- 
dred dollars,  be  would  conduct  Mr.  Sanders  to  the  rogue,  and  take 
all  the  expenses  of  prosecuting  him  on  his  own  shoulders.  As  I  had 
a  deep  interest  in  the  matter — that  is,  in  seeing  all  rogues  brought 
to  justice — I  advanced  him  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  to  get  legal 
advice,  a  horse,  &c.,  that  be  might  be  prepared  to  set  out  with  Mr. 
Sanders,  as  soon  as  he  arrived,  in  quest  of  his  rascally  fourth 
cousin,  of  whose  iniquities  be  bad  long  before  informed  me.  I  con- 
cluded he  had  gone  to  Washington  to*  meet  Mr.  S." 

"Well,  he  told  me  about  that  cousin,^;  and  a  long  cock  and 
bull  story  about  the  death  of  his  dear  wife  ])ridgeta.  I  told  him  I 
didn't  think  there  was  a  woman  in  the  world,  besides  myself,  who 
bore  that  name "' 

"  Did  be  say  her  name  was  Bridgcta  ?  Why,  be  told  me  her 
name  was  Anna." 

"Why,  the  hypocritical,  lying  scoundrel  I  I'll  make  brother 
John  cut  his  ears  off  at  sight,  if  he  prove  to  be  the  villian  I  fear 
he  is." 

Brother  John,  nor  brother  David,  will  ever  v:ei  eight  of  him." 

"  Well,  if  he  has  taken  my  best  horse,  and  choused  me  out  of 
three  bundred  dollars,  I'll  spend  a  tbgusand  dollars  but  what  I'll 
bring  him  to  justice." 

*'  Well,  now,  Mrs.  Glib,  we  have  both  been  imposed  upon  ;  our 
best  way  will  be  to  keep  the  whole   matter  to  ourselves." 

"No  ;  I  am  determined  to  expose  him,  and  to  seek  legal  redress. 
I  can't  sit  down  quietly  under  a  loss  of  a  fine  horse,  and  three  bun- 
dred dollars,  without  making  some  effort  to  save  them.  Let  people 
say  what  they  may,  I'll  try  and  get  hold  of  this  rice  plantation  at 
least." 

"  Believe  mc,  that  story  about  the  rice  plantation  is  all  a  fabrica- 
tion. Did  he  tell  you  about  the  fund  that  bo  got  by  his  dear 
Bridgeta  ?"  '         • 

"  Oh,  yes.  It  amounted  to  what  he  called  the  insignificant  sum 
of  ten  or  twelve  thousand  dollars,  and  wa.s  held  sacred,  and  all  that 
rigmarole  ;  which,  he  said,  nobody  in  the  world  knew  about,  but  mej 
and  which  be  didn't  wish  to  have  known." 

"  Precisely  what  be  told  me  1" 


48  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

^'  The  infamous  rascal !  If  I  was  near  him,  I'd  claw  his  eyes  out. 
I'll  pursue  him  to  the  end  of  the  earth  but  what  I'll  have  satisfac- 
tion !"     So  saying  she  left  in  a  great  hurry  and  a  great  flurry. 

In  a  few  days,  Mr,  Sanders  arrived.  His  report  was  that  Twattle 
had  two  wives  then  living,  whose  pi'operty  he  had  squandered.  - 
That  he  had  courted  many  widows  and  old  maids,  all  of  whom  he 
had  fleeced  to  a  greater  or  less  extent ;  and  some  of  whom  he  had 
treated  even  worse.  That  his  title  of  Doctor  was  assumed  by  him- 
self for  purposes  of  villainy.  That  he  passed  under  every  given 
name  that  "  J"  would  suit;  with  much  more  that  need  not  be  re- 
peated. 

Captain  Thompson  recovered  rapidly  after  Mr.  Sanders'  letter 
reached  the  village.  As  soon  as  the  latter  had  told  his  story,  the 
Captain  visited  his  sistik-,  whom  he  saluted  very  pleasantly. 

"  Well,  sister,  have  you  heard  Doctor  Twattle's  history  V 

"  As  much  of  it  as  I  wish  to  hear  of." 

"  When  does  the  wedding  come  oflf?" 

''  "VYhea  men  cease  to  be  scoundrels." 

''But  surely  you  don't  think  '  Good  Doctor  T-wattle'  a  scoundrel; 
you,  who  know  him  so  much  better  than  any  body  else  knows  him." 

"  Well,  brother  David,  if  you  men  will  be  such  infamous,  hypo- 
critical, lying  villains,  how  are  we  women  to  find  it  out  ?" 

A  very  proper  question,  Mrs.  Mitten !  We  can  excuse  Captain 
Thompson  for  a  little  raillery,  under  the  circumstances;  but  we  can- 
not excuse  the  indiff"erence  of  mankind  generally  to  the  iniquities  of 
men,  and  their  want  of  charity  for  the  errors  and  weaknesses  of 
women.  Many  a  man  in  high  life  is  in  the  daily  commission  of 
crimes  which  would  blast  a  woman's  reputation  forever  !  By  what 
law  is  this  distinction  made  between  the  sexes  ? 

Kow  comes  it  to  pass,  that  men  are  not  only  indulged  in  their 
own  dereliction  from  virtue,  but  in  laying  siege  to  the  virtue  of  the 
better  sex?  And  wliy  is  man  allowed  to  avail  himself  of  the  most 
lovely  traits  of  woman's  character — her  warm  affections,  her  unsuspect- 
ing confidence,  her  generous  hospitality,  her  admiration  of  what  is 
noble  in  human  nature,  and  attractive  in  human  conduct — to  ruin  or 
to  swindle  her?  If  there  be  no  better  world  than  this,  where  more 
even-handed  justice  is  meted  out,  than  this,  God  help  the  women  ! 
Bat  to  return  from  this  digression — 

Mrs.  Mitten's  question  stumped  the  Captain,  and  he  turned  the 
subject : 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  William,  now  ?"  said  he. 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  49 

"  Heaven  only  knows,  brother  David.  I  regret  my  vow  not  to 
send  him  to  Mr.  Markham  ;  but  it  is  out,  and  I  must  keep  it." 

The  Captain  tried  to  convince  her  that  her  vow  was  not  binding, 
but  without  effect.  Fortunately,  a  young  man  of  liberal  education 
and  good  character  opened  a  school  in  the  village,  within  three  days 
after  Twattle  left,  and   William  was  sent  to  school  to  him. 

William  had  just  got  into  his  new  quarters,  when  the  Captain 
visited  his  sister,  bearing  with  him  a  letter  from  the  I'ost  Office,  to 
her  address. 

"  Anna,"  said  he,  as  he  entered  the  house,  "  did  you  lend  Twattle 
two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  before  he  went  away  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  blushing  blue,  "  bul^  I've  got  his  note." 

•'  Oh,  well,  if  you've  got  his  note,  that  will  make  you  just  as  safe  as 
if  you  had  got  his  tooth-pick.  I  do  hope  I'll  come  across  the  scoun- 
drel yet,  before  I  die.  You  would  do  well  to  set  down  and  calculate 
how  much  your  tenderness  for  Bill's  legs  have  cost  you  in  actual 
cash,  to  say  nothijpg  of  trouble.     Who  is  your  letter  from  ?" 

She  opened  and  read  as  folloBB  : 

.  Augusta,  March  4th,  18 — 

"  Mrs.  A.  Mitten  : 

"  Ilaving^reeently  understood  that  you  have  procured  a  private 
teacher,  we  have  ventured  to  stop  your  advertisement,  though  ordered 
to  continue  it  unt  ill  forbid,  under  the  impression  that  you  have  pro- 
bably forgotten  to  have  it  *>topped.  If,  however,  we  have  been  mis- 
informed, we  will  promptly  resume  the  publication  of  it.  You  will 
find  our  account  below  ;  which  as  we  are  much  in  want  of  funds,  you 
will  oblige  us  by  settling  as  soon  as  convenient.  Hoping  your 
teacher  is  all  that  you  could  desire  in  one, 

"  We  remain,  your  ob't.  serv'ts, 

"  H &  B " 

"J/rs.  A.  Mitten  to  Augusta  Herald,  Dr. 
''18— 
"  Mar'.  4th.  To   47   insertions    of  advertisement  for  private 

teacher  from  Mar.  4,  18 ,  to  date,  SI. 00 

for   the   first,  and  75  cents  each,  for  the  re- 
mainder,          §35  50 

"  Reed  payment." 
■•  Why,  brother,"  said  Mrs.  M.,  as  she  closed  the  letter,  '^  T  can't 
surely  be  compelled  to  pay  this  bill,  which  has  been  running  on  for 
nine  months  after  I  got  my  teacher." 

''%C3  you  can,  sister  j  unless  the  stoppage  of  it  in  the  village 


60  MASTER    WILLlJLif   iflTTEN'. 

paper,  where  it  first  appeared,  required  them,  by  the  custom  of 
printers,  to  stop  if.-  I  stopt  it  here  as  soon  as  jou  got  Twattle  ;  but 
I  knew  nothing  of  this  advertisement;  and  don't  remember  seeing 
any  order,  through  this  paper,  to  other  papers  to  publish  it." 

"  No,  I  wrote  to  H.  &  B.  to  publish  it  in  the  Herald,  and  to  Dr. 
C.  to  publish  it  in  the  Argus." 

•''  Well,  you'll  have  to  pay  both  for  publishing  it  until  you  order  it 
stopped.  So  put  down  seventy  or  eighty  dollars  more  to  account  of 
love  for  Bill's  legs;  and  then  hang  him  up  by  the  legs,  and  whip 
his  back  for  a  week,  if  you'll  allow  nobody  else  to  do  it." 

"Brother,  how  have  you  taken  such  a  prejudice  against  my  poor, 
unfortunate  child  ?  If  you'd  talk  to  him  kindly,  and  advise  him,  I 
have  no  doubt  he  would  do  well;  for  he  loves  and  fears  you,  both." 

"  No,  Anna ;  if  you  had  let  him  follow  my  advice  when  he  wished 
to  do  it,  he  would  ever  after  have  done  it,  and  in  the  end  he  would 
have  been  an  honor  to  the  country;  but  he  won't  follow  it  now." 

'<  Well,  brother,  after  all,  I  don't  see  that  hp   is  sO  very  bad." 

"  AVell,  I  know  him  to  be  very  badf  from  men  who  would  not  de- 
ceive me."  * 

"  I've  very  little  confidence  in  men" 

"  So  have  I ;  but  there  are  some  honest  ones  among  them  ;  and 
even  dishonest  ones  may  be  trusted  when  they  tell  of  bad  boys  who 
infest  the  village.  I  will  go  and  stop  the  advertisement  in  the 
Argus  ;  and  much  as  I  sympathize  with  you,  and  regret  your  losses, 
I  am  so  rejoiced  at  the  escape  you  have  made. from  the  clutches  of 
that  rascal,  and  the  ruin  that  threatened  you,  that  they  seem  to  me 
almost  nothing.  It  looks  to  me  as  if  a  kind  Providence  had  inter- 
fered in  your  behalf." 

*•  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,  brother;  and  I  wish  I  coyld  see  you  put- 
ting your  trust  in  Providence  more  than  you  do.  I  will  endeavor  to 
live  better  than  I  have  ever  lived,  do  better  than  I  have  ever  done, 
and  be  more  humble,  than  I  have  ever  been  for  the  balance  of  my 
life." 

"  Why,  as  to  that  matter,  xVnna,  I  don't  see  how  you  are  to  get  any 
better  than  you  are.  I  wish  I  was  half  as  good  in  moral  character 
as  you  are.  Even  your  "  faults  lean  to  virtue's  side" — but  like  all 
women,  you  let  your  feelings  get  the  better  of  your  good  judgment. 
Your  difficulties  all  spring  out  of  your  afl^ctions,  which  blind  you  to 
defects  in  the  objects  of  them,  and  make  you  the  easy  dupe  of  men, 

women,  and   chiklren,   whom  you  love .     Why  do  you  ween? 

Now   is   the  time   you  ought  to  rejoice .     I've  left  my  poCTRt. 


MASTER    WILLJAM   MIITKK.  51 

handkerchief  at  home — Good  niorninfr.  I'll  stop  the  advertisement, 
and  pay  up  both  bills  for  you,  and  talk  to  William.  He  may  do  well 
at  the  new  school.  Young  Smith,  his  teacher,  seems  to  be  a  fine 
3'oung  man,  and good  morning." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Wi:  left  William  Mitten  just  after  his  introduction  to  Mr.  Cosby 
Smith,  his  fourth  teacher.  Smith,  but  recently  from  college,  and 
coming  in  competition  with  Mr.  Markham,  of  course,  did  not  re- 
ceive much  patronage,  though  few  men  of  his  age  better  deserved 
patronage  than  he  did.  He  commenced  with  sixteen  scholars,  a 
fourth  of  whom  were  entered  by  Mrs.  Glib  and  Mrs.  Mitten. 
William,  without  trouble,  and  with  little  study,  went  immediately 
to  the  Lead  of  this  school ;  and  he  went  tliere  only  to  breed  trouble 
to  his  teacher,  and  mischief,  vice,  and  insubordination  among  his 
schoolmates.  Of  all  the  pests  that  can  be  thrown  into  a  school,  the 
smart  boy,  without  a  rival  in  it  for  talents,  and  without  principle,  is 
the  greatest.  His  talents  give  a  charm  to  his  vices  which  is  irre- 
sistible to  most  of  his  young  companions.  School-boys  make  too 
little  distinction  between  virtue  and  vice,  anyhow.  They  never 
seem  to  think  that  their  own  character  is  involved  in  their  associa- 
tion with  the  wicked  ;  nor  that  they  are  under  any  obligation  to 
discountenance  sin,  in  any  of  its  forms,  provided  it  does  not  invade 
their  own  rights.  Hence,  the  vicious  are  admitted  to  all  the  rights, 
privileges,  and  immunities  of  the  little  republic,  as  fully  and  freely 
as  the  most  virtuous.  Look  at  the  students  of  a  school  on  the  play- 
ground— mark  their  intercourse  with  04ich  other  generally,  and  you 
will  find  it  impossible  to  discover  from  their  conduct  which  of  them 
stands  highest,  or  which  stands  lowest,  in  point  of  moral  character. 
]5ut  you  will  not  find  much  difficulty  in  discovering  who  are  the 
master-spirits  among  thcra  in  their  studies.  To  these  there  is  a 
marked  deference  and  respect  shown,  even  in  their  sports.  For  the 
most  part,  their  word  is  law,  and  whether  it  be  on  the  side  of  good  or 
evil,  it  is  equally  aulhorit:itivc.  What  can  be  worse  than  such  law- 
givers, when  their  hearts  are  constantly  set  on  mischief! 
,  For  some  months  before  William  had  entered  this  school,  ]ih  lip- 
f||*plications  to  his  mother,  for  money,  had  become  alarmingly  frequent  j 
but  he  always  quieted  her  alarms  by  representing  to  her  that  the 
^"unds  desired  were  for  some  benevolent,  or  praiseworthy  object.  His 
_  rcscntntions  brought  from  tier  many  excellent  lectures  upon  indi- 


52'  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

scriminate  chanties,  and  the  danger  to  which  his  benevolent  nature 
was  exposed  from  imposters  and  worthless  vagrants,  who  choos© 
rather  to  beg  than  to  work — to  which  he  generally  gave  substantial- 
ly the  same  reply,  namely,  "  that  he  was  always  very  particular  in 
seeing  who  he  gave  his  money  to."  In  this  he  told  the  truth,  at 
least,  since  he  generally  gkve  his  money  to  one  of  the  Glibs,  whom 
he  had  become  very  particular  in  seeing  too  frequently  at  the  card- 
table.  He  had  been  at  Smith's  school  but  a  few  months,  before 
the  fountains  of  his  charity  suddenly  dried  up ;  and  what  may  seem 
very  strange  to  some,  dried  up  just  as  he  began  to  acquire  the  means 
of  more  enlarged  benevolence.  His  growing  fortune  first  exhibited 
itself  in  a  profusion  of  pen-knives,  which  he  carried  about  him,  from 
the  most  costly  and  elegant  down  to  the  cheapest  and  most  worthless 
kind. 

"William,"  said  his  mother,  "where  do  you  get  those  elegant 
pen-knives  ?" 

"  This  one  was  given  to  me  by  Mr.  Jones ;  and  this  one  I  found  j 
and  this  one  was  given  to  me  by  one<of  the  school-boys."  William 
did  not  show  his  mother  his  whole  assortment,  by  three  or  four. 

"  I  hope,  my  son,  that  these  gifts  are  but  just  returns  for  the  many 
acts  of  charity  which  you  have  recently  done  "to  the  poor.  One 
never  loses  anything  in  the  end  by  this  kind  of  charity ;  but  you 
should  have  excused  yourself  from  accepting  the  last,  on  the  ground 
that  you  had  two  elegant  knives  already ;  and  that  your  young 
friend  needed  it  more  than  you  did." 

"I  did  tell  him  so;  but  he  said  I  must  take  it  to  remember 
him  by." 

"  Well,  my  son,  put  that  away  as  a  sacred  keepsake,  and  never 
use  it  but  in  case  of  necessity." 

The  next  signs  which  William  exhibited  of  hig  growing  fortune, 
were  books,  fishing-poles,  shinny-sticks,  bunches  of  quills,  breast- 
pins, and  cakes  of  divers  kinds. 

"  William,"  said  his  mother,  "  where  did  you  get  those  articles  ?" 

"■  They  were  given  to  me  by  the  boys  for  doing  their  sums  for 
them ;  and  taking  them  over  their  lessons — " 

"  Oh  my  son  !  my  son  !     You  surely  ,did  not  take  pay  for  these 

little  kindnesses,  from  your  school  fellows  !     I  am  ashamed  of  you — 

deeply  mortified.     Where  did  you  learn  that  groveling  sordid  spirit  ? 

'I  would  rather  have  given  you  twenty  dollars,  to  buy  all  these  things 

than  to  have  seen  you  guilty  of  such  igaoble  acts." 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MITTEN.  53 

-"  Well,  Ma,  I  didn't  wish  to  take  'cm  ;  but  tliey  would  make  me 
take  tl^eiii."  • 

'*'  No  matter  what  they  said,  3'ou  should  not  have  received  them. 
.4s  a  gift  you  might  have  taken  them  ;  but  as  a  reward  iforsuch  little 
favors  a.s  those  to  your  young  friends,  you  should  have  rejected 
them." 

These  were  new  lights  to  William;  for  he  thought  his  mother 
woujd  be  delighted  to  hear  of  his  superiority  over  his  schoolmates, 
and  that  he  was  already  turning  his  talents  to  good  account. 

''  And  where  did  30U  got  the  two  breast-pins  ?" 

"I  sold  one  of  my  pen-knives,  and  bought  this." 

"Not  the  one,  I  hope,  that  your  friend  gave  you  " 

"  Oh,  no  ma'am  ;  the  one  I  found  I" 

"  Why,  William,  you  surely  have  not  sold  n  found  knife  I  It  was 
not  your  property,  but  the  property  of  him  who  lost  it;  and  you 
should  have  kept  it,*to  restore  it  to  him  as  soon  as  he  could  be  dis- 
covered ;  and  you  should  have  used  your  best  exertions  to  find  the 
owner,  in  order  that  you  might  restore  it  to  him.  I  am  deeply  mor- 
tified at  this  act  of  your.s  j  and  if  you  have  any  regard  for  my  feel- 
ings, or  your  character,  never  do  the  like  again.  It  alarms  me,  and 
pains  me  deeply  to  discover  such  principles  in  you.  Where  did  you 
learn  them  '■  Not  from  any  vrho  carries  the  blood  of  your  father  or 
mother  in  his  veins,  I  am  sure.  I  fear  your  intimacy  with  the  Glibs 
is  ruining  you.  Nothing  but  dire  ueces.sity  could  have  induced  me 
to  put  you  to  the  same  school  with  them  ;  but  I  charge  you,  as  I 
have  often  charged  you  before,  to  have  as  little  to  do  with  them  as 
possible." 

"  Where  did  you  get  the  other  brcost-pin  ?" 

William  was  saved  a  great  deal  of  trouble  and  mortification  in 
answering  this  question,  by  an  exclamation  of  his  sister  Jane,  who 
no  sooner  cast  her  eyes  upon  the  breast-pin,  than  she  exclaimed  : 
"  Why,  Ma,  that  is  Flora  Glib's  breast-pin.  Let  me  look  at  it 
William,  yes,  here  are  her  initials  on  it :  F.  C.  L.  G. — Floi-a 
Claudia  Lavinia  Glib.  I  knew  it  as  soon  as  I  saw  it;  for  I  have 
seen  her  wear  it  a  hundred  times." 

"  William  I"  ejaculated  his  mother,  with  manifest  alarm  and  in- 
dignation, "  where  did  you  get  that  pin  ?" 

"Jeff.  Glib  gave  it  to  mel" 

*<  Go  immediately  to  him,  and  return  it;  and  tell  him  to  give  it 
back  to  his  Bister." 

The  truth  of  the  matter  is  that  William  had  mado  such  rapid  im- 


54  MASTER    WILLIAM   MHT£N, 

provemeut  in  card-playing,  that  he  had  become  an  over-match  for 
the  Glibs,  and  he  was  now  indoctrinating  as  many  of  his  school- 
mates into  the  mysteries  of  the  card  table  as  he  could  find  willing  to 
become  his  pupils  ;  and  for  the  reasons  already  given,  he  found  nearly 
the  whole  school  ready  to  take  lessons  from  him.  Most  of  his  ar- 
ticles of  merchandize,  (and  we  have  not  named  all  of  them)  were  the 
fruits  of.  his  industry  in  this  department  of  science ;  though  some  of 
them  were,  as  he  said,  rewards  for  his  better  services  to  his  fellow 
students.  It  would  have  been  bad  enough,  had  his  evil  influence 
stopt  here;  but  it  did  not.  He  had  already  become  mean  enough  to 
tempt  his  school-fellows  to  sin  in  a  hundred  forms  ;  and  artful 
enough  to  put  them  always  forward  to  the  post  of  danger  in  the 
commission  of  it.  The  consequence  was,  that,  while  he  got  the 
booty,  they  got  the  floggings  and  disgrace. 

The  iniquities  of  the  school  were  most  unrighteously  visited  upon 
the  head  of  the  preceptor,  who,  at  the  end  of  year,  was  compelled 
to  quit  the  village,  for  want  of  patronage. 

-  "  And  what,"  said  Captain  Thompson,  to  his  sister,  "  are  you 
going  to  do  with  your  hopeful  son  now,  Anna?" 

'*  Heaven  only  knows  !  1  fear  he  will  bring  my  grey  hairs  with 
sorrow  to  the  grave.     Brother  David,  why  do  you  not  talk  to  him  ?" 

''  Talk,  the  devil !  I  have  talked  to  him,  in  all  ways  that  I 
can  think  of;  and  what  good  docs  it  do?  He  has  got  so  of  late 
that  when  I  talk  to  him  I  can  hardly  keep  my  hands  off  of  him.  I 
can  see  in  the  looks  and  actions  of  the  young  rascal,  that  nothing 
but  fear  keeps  him  from  laughing  outright  in  my  face." 

''  Oh,  brother,  1  think  you  judge  him  too  harshly.  I  know  he  has 
got  into  bad  habits;  but  still,  I  am  sure  he  respects  and  loves  you." 

"  And  he  respects  and  loves  you,  too,  don't  he?" 

"He  must  be  a  brute  if  he   does  not." 

"  Well  I  suppose  he  docs  love  you ;  but  I  assure  you  he  cares  no 
more  for  your  counsels  than  he  does  for  mine  ;  and  that  hardly  a  day 
goes  over  his  head  that  he  does  not  practice  some  deception  upon 
you." 

"There,  brother,  I  think  you  judge  him  a  little  t®o  hardly  again. 
>  He  generally  does  what  I  tell  him." 

"  Well,  tell  hiifi  to  quit  playing  cards,  pilfering  from  gardens  and 
orchards,  cursing  and  swearing,  smoking  rjegars,  drinking  spirits, 
frequenting  kitch — 

"  Oh,  mercy  on  me,  brother  David!  what  enemy  of  my  child  has 
filled  your  ears  with  these  calumnies?     He  is  bad  enough,  I  know, 


i 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  55 

but  he  is  not  a  devil  yet.     I  cannot  believe  he  is  near  as  base  as  you 
represent  him  to  be." 

"  Very  well;  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  him  ?" 

*'  I  do  not  know.  Will  you  take  him  under  your  charge  ?  for  I 
confess  I  fear  ho  is  getting  into  bad  habits." 

"Yes,  I'll  take  him,  and  clothe  him  and  feed  him  at  my  own  ex- 
pense, if  you  will  only  give  me  your  word  that  you  will  not  interfere 
with  my  management  of  him.  Will  you  do  it?  If  you  will,  I'll 
perhaps  save  your  boy  from  ruin  and  you  from  a  broken  heart." 

"  Where  would  you  send  him  to  school  ?.    To  ^Ir.  Markham  ?" 

"  I  should  prefer  him ;  but  as  I  know  you  object  to  him,  I  will 
engage  that  Bill  shall  not  be  sent  to  Markham.  Indeed,  he  must  be 
got  out  of  this  place ;  or  forty  bushels  of  salt,  and  as  many  pounds 
of  saltpetre  wouldn't  save  him.  I'll  send  him  to  Mr.  Waddel. 
He'll  fetch  him  straight." 

''I'm  told  Mr.  Waddel  is  very  severe." 

"  Not  a  whit  more  than  he  ought  to  be,  I'll  warrant  you.  I  am 
told  his  pupils  generally  like  him,  and  improve  wonderfully  under 
him.  Now,  Anna,  if  I  take  him,  remember  the  terms.  You  are  to 
have  nothing  to  do  with  him.  You  surely  ought  to  know,  that  I  can 
have  no  object  in  taking  charge  of  him,  but  his  good  and  your  peace. 

If,  therefore,  my  conduct  seems  unkind,  or  severe  to  him,  don't 
let  your  maternal  partialities  lead  you  to  interfere  in  any  manner 
with  my  authority  over  him.  By  this  time,  you  are  surely  con- 
vinced of  the  utter  futility  of  your  mode  of  mauaglng'him,  and  that 
if  some  new  course  of  discipline  be  not  adopte'U  towards  him,  he  will 
bring  himself  and  you  to  an  untimely  grave.  You  must  not  only 
make  up  your  mind  to  give  me  unlimited  control  over  hiai,  during 
his  pupilage,  but  you  must  pledge  me  your  word,  that  you  will  show 
me  every  letter  that  he  writes  to  you  during  his  absence  from  you  at 
school,  or  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  him.  Wliy  do  you  weep, 
Anna  ?" 

"Brother,"  said  Mrs.  M.,  "it  is  a  hard  thing  for  a  mother  to 
wean  herself  from  her  own  child — to  tear  him  from  her  bosom,  and 
hand  him  over  as  property  to  another.  I  know,  my  dear  brother, 
that  your  intentions  are  good — that  you  have  the  interests  of  my 
child  deeply  at  heart,  and  that  all  your  aims  are  for  his  good  and 
mine;  but  I  fear  that  you  have  so  often  been  provoked  by  William 
and  have  become  so  prejudiced  and  embittered  against  him,  that  you 
cannot  judge  of  his  conduct  impartially,  you  cannot  make  the  due 
allowances  for  his  faults,  and  that  you  will  lean  as  much  too  far  on 


56  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

the  side  of  severity  in  your  government  as  I  have  leaned  on  the  side 
of  lenity  in  mine.  Why  cannot  you  act  a  father's  part  by  him, 
veithout  usurping  exclusive  authority  over  him  ?" 

"  I  had  a  long  answer  to  what  you  have  said,  Anna;  but  your  last 
remark  suggests  a  very  brief  one,  which  I  think  is  conclusive.  Now 
all  I  ask  is  that  you  put  me  exactly  in  his  father's  place.  Had  his 
father  lived,  he  would  have  exercised  absolute  authority  over  William 
in  all  matters  touching  his  educaj;ion.  He  would  have  demanded — 
or  rather  you  would  have  freely  granted  to  him,  the  perusal  of  all 
your  son's  letters  to  you.  In  all  else  you  would  have  ruled  the  boy 
conjointly.  Now,  give  me  the  absolute  control  of  him  in  the  matter 
of  his  education,  let  me  see  his  letters  to  you,  and  in  all  else  you 
shall  have  unlimited  control  of  him.  I  need  not  tell  you  why  I 
exact  these  terms  of  you.  They  are  indispensable  to  the  proper 
management  of  your  son." 

This  reply  brought  Mrs.  Mitten  to  a  dead  silence;  and  Avhile  she 
was  pondering  upon  it,  very  opportunely  for  its  success,  in  steps 
Master  William,  with  his  beautiful  face  "  pretty  considerably  "  dis- 
figured with  bruises  and  scratches, 

"  Why,  William  !'^  exclaimed  his  mother,  almost  at  the  fainting 
point,  "  who  upon  the  earth  has  treated  you  in  that  manner  ?" 

"•Jim  Fox,"   muttered  William. 

"  What  did  you  fight  about  ?" 

"  We  \XQYO  plai/ing  and  he  got  mad,  and  insulted  me,  and  I  struck 
him." 

This  was  strictly  truc^  hut  not  quite  the  whole  truth.  The  plai/- 
ing  was  icith  cards,  and  the  insult  was,  "  Bill  MiUen,  i/ou're  the 
biggest  cheat  that  ever  jAayed  a  card  in  this  town." 

Captain  Thompson  said  nothing,  peradventure,  he  might  at  this 
critical  period  strengthen  his  sister's  convictions  that  he  was  un- 
duly prejudiced  and  embittered  against  her  son.  With  the  promise 
to  call  the  next  day  for  her  decision  upon  his  proposition,  he  left 
rather  abruptly. 

As  soon  as  he  retired,  Mrs.  M.  addressed  her  son  as  follows  : 
"  William,  I'll  have  to  send  you  away  from  this  village,  or  wicked 
associates  will  be  the  ruin  of  you.  I  find  that  it  is  vain  to  counsel 
yeu  against  keeping  bad  company,  and  the  only  alternative  left  me 
is  to  remove  you  from  it.  I  have  concluded,  therefore,  to  send  you 
to  school  to  Mr.  Waddel,  an  excellent " 

"  I'll  not  go,"  said  Billy,  crustily. 

This  was  Bill's  first  indication,  when  sober,  cf  open  revolt  againut 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  57 

the  authority  of  his  mother,  and  she  met  it    with    becoming  spirit. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  she,  "  I  see  you  are  getting  too  stout  for  my 
government,  and,  therefore,  I  will  turn  you  over  to  your  uncle,  and 
see  whether  he  cannot  make  you  go.  Now,  sir,  my  word  is  out,  and 
you  know  I'll  keep  it." 

"  Ma,"  said  William,  in  a  subdued  tone,  "  I'll  go  any  where  else 
but  to  Mr.  Waddel's  school.  Everybody  says  that  he  is  the  severest 
man  that  ever  kept  a  school.  lie  whips  boys  just  for  the  fun  of  it, 
for  he  laughs  all  the  time  he's  doing  it.  You  know  Uncle  David 
hates  me,  and  he'll  put  me  there  just  to  have  me  whipped." 

"  No,  William,  it  is  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  any  man  can 
take  pleasure  in  punishing  his  pupils.  Mr.  Waddel's  school  has  a 
high  reputation,  which  it  could  not  have  if  he  were  the  man  you 
take  him  to  be.  Your  uncle  does  not  hate  you  ;  but  the  town  keeps 
him  constantly  excited  with  reports  "Tof  your  misdeeds,  and,  there- 
fore, hs  sometimes  seems  cross  to  you  ;  but  he  has  a  kin^  heart, 
and  desires  nothing  more  than  my  happiness  and  your  good.  Oh  ! 
that  I  had  followed  his  advice  sooner!" 

"  Well,  Uncle  may  take  me  to  Mr.  Waddel's,  but  he'll  not  keep 
me  there;  for  I'll  run  away  and  come  home  as  soon  as  his  back's 
turned." 

"  That  matter,  sir,  I'll  leave  to  be  settled  between  you  and  him." 

Here  William  saddened  and  wept ;  and  his  mother  did  likewise. 

The  next  day  the  articles  proposed  were  agreed  to,  without  quali- 
fication, save  as  to  expenses  of  clothing  and  tuition,  which  were  to 
fall  on  the  mother. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  articles  of  capitulation  having  been  ratified,  as  mentioned  in 
the  last  chapter,  the  Captain  was  .inxious  to  set  out  immediately  with 
William,  for  Mr.  Waddel's  school ;  but  Mrs.  Mitten  declared  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  prepare  a  suitable  outfit  for  her  son,  short  of 
a  fortnight.  "  Remember,"  said  she  with  a  filling  eye,  "ray  poor 
child  is  going  among  strangers,  where  he  will  find  none  to  make  or 
mend  for  him.  He  is  to  be  gone  at  least  five  months,  even  if  you 
will  permit  him  to  come  home  in  the  vacation ;  or  if  you  will  not, 
then  for  a  year,  or  it  may  be" — here  Mrs.  Mitten's  swelling  heart 
stifled  utterance.  The  Captain  regarded  her  for  a  moment  in  silence, 
in  thoughtfulness,  in  petulance,  in  pity,  and  then  said  :  "  Well,  if 
there  be  a  stranger  thing  on  this  green  earth  than,  a  woman,  I  should 
like  to  know  what  it  is — at  least  a  woman  with  a  smart,  pretty,  good- 
for-nothing  son.  I  thought  if  there  was  anything  in  this  world  that 
I  did  know,  it  was  my  own  sister;  but  I  find  that  I  know  nothing 
about  her.  A  woman  !  Let  her  be  as  good,  as  sensible,  as  amiable 
as  she  may  be,  and  give  her  a  child,  and  forthwith  her  head  is 
turned  topsy-turvey.  She  is  as  blind  to  her  child's  faults  as  a  bat, 
and  she  mistrusts  everybody  who  is  not  as  blind  to  them  as  she  is. 
I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  a  woman  may  have  a  soul  before 
she  has  a  child,  but  never  afterwards — that  is,  a  sound  one — a  ra- 
tional one.  After  that,  all  is  impulse  or  instinct  with  her — at  least, 
in  all  that  touches  her  off"spring.  She  may  have  a  thousand  proofs 
that  her  indulgence  is  ruining  her  child,  and  she  will  indulge  him 
still.  She  will  believe  him  before  she  will  believe  anyone  else; 
and  when  his  iniquities  stand  broadly  out  before  her  face,  she  wiR 
find  an  apology  for  them  all.  He  is  '  uii/ortimate/  or  '  he  has  heen 
tempted  to  vice  hy  had  company'  or  '  he  is  slandered,'  or  '  he  is  the 
victim  of  envy,'  or  'prejudice,'  or " 

"  Why,  dear  me,  brother  David,  I  don't  see  what  I've  said  or  done 
to  call  forth  this  harangue." 

"  Why,  you  are  talking  and  acting  just  as  though  I  had  taken  your 
child  from  you  by  force,  and  meant  to  afflict  him  in  all  forms  pos- 
sible. ^  U  you\  will  permit  \iu\\  io  come  \\omQ  in  vacation,  and  if 
not.'  Do  you  suppose  that  I  ever  dreamed  of  keeping  him  away 
from  you  during  the  holidays  ?  Do  you  suppose  that  I  take  charge 
of  him  only  to  torment  him  't" 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MITTEN.  59 

*'  My  dear  brother,  don't  be  angry  with  me.  I  had  not  the  most 
distant  idea  of  offending  you  in  what  I  said.  I  never  questioned  for 
a  moment  your  kindly  feelings  towards  me  and  my  child  ;  but  have 
Bome  charity  for  a  mother's  love — foUj/,  if  you  choose  to  call  it  so. 
I  never  was  separated  from  William  a  fortnight  in  my.  life.  He  is 
not  torn  from  me,  but  he  is  taArn  from  me — with  my  consent — ne- 
cessarily, I  grant,  but  it  is  a  sore  necessity.  He  is  to  be  carried 
among  strangers,  to  be  treated,  T  know  not  how.  If  sick,  to  suffer 
for  a  mother's  care — at  least  for  a  time — perchance  to  die  for  the 
want  of  it.  Now,  when  all  these  things  crowd  upon  a  mother's 
heart,  is  it  wonderful  that  it  should  be  depressed?" 

"  I  am  not  angry  with  you,  Anna,  that  is — I — believe  I  am  not. 
I  know  I  don't  wish  to  be;  but  I  am  amazed  at  your  want  of  firm- 
ness, your  w^nt  of  resignation  to  necessities;  your  surrender  of  judg- 
ment to  feeling;  your  patience  under  present  evils;  and  your  dis- 
tress at  imaginary  ones.  1  am  alarmed  at  the  intimations  you 
already  give,  of  the  speedy  blowing  up  of  our  arrangement — not 
from  a  breach  of  your  pledge,  but  from  your  anxieties,  3'our  griefs, 
your  fears,  your  yearning  to  bo  with  your  son,  which  will  leave  me 
no  alternative  but  to  re;^tore  him  to  you,  or  to  see  you  waste  away 
under  their  continual  corrodings.  I  pray  you  nerve  yourself  up  to 
the  exigencies  of  the  case.  That  William  can  stay  no  longer  here, 
you  know.  That  he  is  in  the  broad  road  to  ruin  here,  I  know,  and 
you  ought  to  know.  That  he  is  getting  beyond  your  control  you 
confess,  and  in  a  little  time  he  will  be  beyond  mine.  Now,  think  of 
these  things,  and  let  them  reconcile  you  to  apy  unpleasant  issues  of 
our  new  arrangement.  Let  this  reflection  quiet,  or  at  least  solace  all 
future  anxieties  about  your  son.  '  ]t  ix  impossible  for  things  to  he 
worse  than  thej/  are.'  J^e  cheerful,  at  least  till  evils  come,  and  bear 
them  with  fortitude  when  they  do  come." 

Mrs.  Mitten  promised  to  do  her  best,  and  the  Captain  continued  : 

"  Don't  consume  time  in  gathering  up  an  extensive  wardrobe 
for  your  son.  Let  us  get  him  o,at  of  this  place  as  soon  as  possible  ; 
for  he  is  rottiu'r  here  faster  than  a  dead  rat  in  Ausust " 

"  Oh,  hrotlier  !  How  can  you  speak  of  your  sister's  child  in  that 
way?" 

"  Well,  I  would  have  used  a  more  delicate  comparison,  for  your 
sakf,  ff  I  had  thought  of  it;  but  as  for  IJill — however,  get  him 
ready  as  soon  as  you  can.  A  few  changes  of  apparel  is  all  that  he 
needs  ;  and  let  them  be  plain  and  stout.  Waddel's  school  is  in  the 
•woods,  where  nobody  sees,  and   nobody  cares   how    the  boys    are 


60  MASTER  WILLIAM    MITTEN. 

dressed.  It  is  made  up,  I  hear,  principally  of  hardy  rustic  youths, 
most  of  whom,  probably,  never  had  a  broadcloth  coat,  a  linen  shirt, 
or  a  pair  of  store-stockings  on  in  their  lives.  If  therefore,  you  send 
your  son  among  them,  dressed  out  in  fine  clothes,  you  will  expose 
him  to  ridicule  from  his  young  companions,  and  to  other  petty  an- 
noyances, which  will  give  him  a  distaste  for  the  place  even  greater 
than  he  now  has.  Better  for  you,  and  for  him,  that  his  clothing  be 
cheap,  plain,  and  durable."  Mrs.  Mitten  promised  to  get  him  ready 
as  soon  as  she  could,  and  the  Captain  left  her. 

In  the  meantime,  William  behaved  himself  uncommonly  well.  He 
was  too  much  saddened  by  the  prospect  before  him  to  relish  either 
amusements  or  books.  He  spent  most  of  his  time  at  homo  in  deep 
despondency  ;  for  as  soon  as  it  was  noised  abroad  that  William  Mit- 
ten was  going  to  WadJel's  school,  th«  reports  of  Waddel's  severities 
doubled  in  number,  and  quadrupled  in  exaggeration.  Any  one,  to 
have  heard  them,  as  passed  among  the  young  ones  of  the  village, 
might  have  supposed  that  he  fried  a  pair  of  little  boys  for  breakfast, 
and  roasted  a  big  one  for  dinner  every  day. 

William  had  heard  these  reports  in  all  their  vart'atious,  and  they 
filled  him  with  horror.  His  mother  oflered  him  encouragements 
with  the  tongue,  but  discouragements  with  the  eye,  every  day,  the 
last,  of  course,  neutralized  the  first.  After  twelve  days  of  prepara- 
tion, Mrs.  Mitten  informed  her  brother  that  William  would  be  ready 
to  take  his  departure  the  next  day.  The  Captain  visited  his  sister 
that  night,  to  make  all  preliminary  arrangements  for  the  commence- 
ment of  the  journey,  early  the  next  morning.  He  found  the  family 
alone,  for  the  hour  of  William's  departure  had  been  purposely  kept 
secret,  to  avoid  the  intrusion  of  visitors  on  this  solemn  evening. 
They  were  all  seated  around  the  fiio  silent  and  dejected.  On  the 
candle-stand,  by  the  mother's  side,  lay  the  family  Bible  open — ^^next 
to  her,  in  the  order  of  their  ages,  sat  the  two  daughters,  and  William 
rested  his  drooping  head  upon  the  pillar  of  the  mantle-piece.  The 
servants  stood  around,  with  their  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  as  if  for  the 
last  time.  They  had  all  just  risen  from  prayers,  hurried  a  little  from 
fear  of  interruption.  The  tears  which  from  every  eye  had  accompa- 
nied the  mother's  devotion,  had  just  ceased  to  flow.  A  death-like 
silence  reigned  throughout  the  group,  broken  only  by  sighs  more  or 
less  heavy,  as  they  rose  from  hearts  more  or  less  depressed.  As  the 
Captain  entered,  all  burst  into  tears  afresh. 

"  What !"  said  he,  with  a. feigned  indifference  to  the  scene,  which 
he  did  not  feel,  "  All  this  mourning  at  sending  a  little  shaver  to 
school  !" 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MITTEN.  61 

The  Captain  was  not  a  religious  man,  but  he  was  almost  persuaded 
to  he  a  christian  ;  and  the  sight  of  his  sister  at  prayer  always  inspired 
hiin  with  an  instinctive  pliilosophy  upon  "souls/'  much  more  im- 
pressive, if  not  more  rational,  than  the  impulsive  philosophy  which 
he  had  recently  delivered.  lie  glanced  his  eye  to  the  candle  stand, 
and  took  his  scat  in  the  circle  as  mute  as  the  mutest.  A  minute  or 
more  elapsed  before  another  word  was  spoken  ;  and  the  first,  to  the 
surprise  of  all,  fell  from  William. 

"  Unc)o,"  said  he,  in  a  grief-stricken,  faltering  voice,  "Uncle — 
you  can — save  me — from  going  to  Mr.  Waddel's  school,  if  you  will. 
It  isn't  too  late  yet — If  you  pleate,  Uncle,  don't  send  me  there — 
I'll  go  any  where  else  in  the  world  that  you  choose  to  send  me,  and 
not  complain.  If  you  will  only  not  send  mc  to  that  school,  I  never 
will  disobey  you,  or  Ma  again.  I  know  I've  dune  wrong" — Here 
the  elder  sister  interposed,  kneeling:  "Oh,  my  dear  Uncle,  you 
cannot,  you  will  not,  resist'  that — no,  your  streaming  eyes  tell  me 
you  will  not — here  on  my  knees  before  you,  I  beg  you,  I  implore 
you" — "  And  I,  Uncle,"  said  the  younger,  dropping  by  her  sister's 
side,  "  We  both  beseech  you  for  our  dear,  our  only  brother.  Why 
Uiat  school,  in  preference  to  all  other  schools  in  the  world  ? " 

"  Girls  be  seated  !"  said  the  Captain  ;  and  they  obeyed  him. 

A  long  pause  in  the  conversation  emboldened  even  the  servants  to 
drop  a  word  in  William's  behalf. 

There  was  but  one  of  the  group  who  did  not ;  and  she  felt  more 
than  all  of  them  together.  Under  circumstances  so  trivial,  no  poor 
heart  over  ran  through  such  a  hurricane  of  turbulent  emotions  in  a 
few  short  moments,  as  did  hers.  She  had  never  seen  her  child  so 
moved  by  fear  before.  She  had  never  seen  him  an  iumble  sup- 
pliant before  ;  and  now,  it  was  to  her  substitute,  not  to  her!  She 
had  never  heard  ^h  accents  of  humility  and  contrition  from  his 
lips  before.  She^PS  hardly  ever  bcfcrc  seen  the  manly  cheek  of  her 
brother  moistened  with  a  tear,  and  never  hoped  to  see  it,  by  the  elo- 
quence of  her  boy.  Long  sinking  hopqs  rose  buoyantly  from  the 
scene  before  her ;  she  "  would  yet  sec  her  first  anticipations  from  her 
gifted  son  fully  realized  "— "  her  brother's  censures  would  soon  be 
turned  into  praises;  his  roughness,  to  kindness."  Anxiety  crowded 
in  upon  hope — anxiety  for  the  issue  of  her  son's  appeal.  If  suc- 
cessful, "  what  then  ?  where  then  ?"  Alarms  pressed  upon  anxiety. 
"If  he  is  foiled  in  this  appeal,  will  he  ever  make  another — will  he 
not  be  driven  to  desperation  ?" 

All  these  conflicting  emotions  she  bore  with  marvelous  composure  ; 


62  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

but  when  the  first  words  of  her  brother's  response  fell  upon  her  ear  : 
"  God  bless  you,  my  dear,  dear  orphan  boy  !"  her  self  command  en- 
tirely forsook  her.  She  crossed  her  arms  upon  her  Bible,  dropt  her 
head  upon  them,  cried  "  Amen !  and  Amen  1"  and  sobbed  convul- 
sively, loud  and  long. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  dear,  dear  orphan  boy,"  said  the  Captain, 
"  you  are  now  in  the  right  way,  my  son,  and  while  you  walk  therein 
your  Uncle  will  be  a  father  to  you — he  will  love  you,  he  will  serve 
you,  he  will  do  any  and  everything  that  he  can,  to  make  you  happy. 
If  he  deny  you  anything,  be  sure  it  is  for  your  own  good.  And 
now,  if  you  or  your  Mother  will  tell  me  what  other  teacher  I  can 
send  you  to,  with  any  hope  of  having  you  well  instructed,  and  your 
morals  well  guarded,  I  will  not  send  you  to  Mr.  Waddel." 

"  Can't  you  send  me  back  to  Mr.  Markham  ?" 

"  Well,  come,  your  Mother  shall  answer  that  question  for  me." 

"  In  an  evil  hour,  son,  T  vowed  you  should  never  go  back  to  Mr. 
Markham,"  said  the  mother. 

"Well,  Anna,"  continued  the  Captain,  "in  the  present  state  of 
things,  I  think  you  are  released  from  that  vow ;  but  supposing  your- 
self entirely  released  from  it,  would  you  be  willing  to  keep  William 
longer  in  this  town  at  any  school  ?" 

"  Well,  as  he  is  penitent,  and  promises  amendment,  if  I  could 
feel  myself  free  from  my  vow,  I  believe  I  would  be  willing  to  see 
him  return  to  Mr.  Markham.  But  it  is  not  worth  while  to  discuss 
this  subject;  I  cannot  feel  myself  released  from  my  vow.  It  is 
known  all  over  the  village,  and  nobody  will  believe  you  put  him 
there  without  my  consent ;  and  every  body  will  think  I  pretended  to 
turn  William  over  to  you,  just  to  shuffle  out  of  my  vow.  Be  this  as 
it  may,  my  conscience  is  involved  in  the  matter,  and  1  am  not  going 
to  expose  it  to  any  nice  questions.  If  I  err  a|||kll,  let  me  err  on 
the  safe  side.  I  therefore,  give  no  consent  to  hiPgoing  to  Mr.  Mark- 
ham, and  I  would  rather  that  you  should  not  expose  me  to  the  sus- 
picion of  having  given  my  consent  to  it." 

"  Well,  William,"  resumed  the  Captain,  "  that  door's  closed. 
Now,  hear  me,  my  son.  Don't  you  remember  how  sorry  you  were 
that  I  did  not  have  my  way  with  you  when  you  were  taken  from  Mr. 
Markham  ?  Well,  just  so  it  will  be  by  and  by,  if  I  do  not  have  my 
way  with  you  now.  You  must  get  away  from  the  bad  boys  of  this 
town.  Haven't  they  often  tempted  you  to  do  what  you  had  fully  re- 
solved not  to  do?" 
"Yes,  sir." 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITfEN.  QS 

"  Now,  I  know  you  think  you  will  never  be  led  away  by  them 
again,  if  I  let  you  stay  here ;  but  you  will  be  as  you  have  been. 
You  have  been  alarmed  by  false  and  foolish  reports  about  Mr.  Wad- 
del's  severity  and  cruelty.  If  they  were  true,  his  school  could  not 
be  as  celebrated  as  it  is.  He  could  not  have  the  number  of  scholars 
he  has.  I  am  told  he  has  largely  over  a  hundred  scholars,  some  of 
them  the  sons  of  the  first  men  in  the  State,  and  that  thousands  of 
people  from  far  and  near  attend  his  exhibitions.  If  3'ou'll  go  there, 
and  get  a  premium  (as  I  know  you  can,  if  you  will,)  it  will  be  worth 
having.  It  will  be  heard  of  in  two  or  three  States.  Come,  son,  try 
Uncle's  advice  this  one  time.  All  things  are  ready  now-»-the  time 
appointed  for  us  to  go — if  we  let  it  slip,  you'll  be  here  doing  nothing 
and  worse  than  nothing,  for  I  know  not  how  long.  Cheer  up,  my 
boy  ;  you  can  surely  stand  a  school  of  such  renown,  and  if  you  will 
do  your  best,  you  will  stand  ah'ead  of  these  big  men's  sons.  Now, 
what  say  you,  sou ;  will  you  go  or  not?" 

"I'll  go,  Uncle,"  said  William,  with  a  promptness  and  a  firmness 
that  astonished  all  present. 

"That's  a  fine  fellow,"  said  the  Captain.  "I  wouldn't  take  a 
thousand  dollars  for  my  part  in  you,  this  day." 

William's  decision  was  conclusive  upoo  the  family ;  and  the 
Mother  felt  herself  in  duty  bound  not  to  disturb  it  by  word,  action, 
or  look.  She  therefore  assumed  to  be  pleased,  though  she  was  so 
confident  of  William's  entire  and  radical  reform,  from  what  had  just 
passed  before  her,  that  she  would  have  preferred  Markham  to  Wad- 
del,  if  conscience  had  been  out  of  the  way. 

"  Anna,"  said  the  Captain,  "  Mary  "  (his  wife,)  "  and  the  child- 
ren will  come  over  with  me  in  the  morning  to  bid  AVillliam  good-bye, 
and  Mary  will  spend  the  day  with  you.  I  shall  be  here  with  the 
chaise,  after  an  eayly  breakfast,  and  let  all  things  be  ready." 

The  Captain  had  anticipated  some  sucFi  .scene  as  that  which  he 
had  just  passed  through,  and  to  lighten  the  burden  of  it,  he  would 
not  allow  his  family  to  accompany  him  that  night. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  eventful  morning  came,  and  at  an  early  hour  Captain  Thomp- 
son's chaise  was  at  his  sister's  door.  His  family  had  anticipated  his 
advent  some  eight  or  ten  minutes.  Tom  came  out  to  hold  his  horse, 
while  he  went  in.  ''No,  I  won't  light,  Tom,"  said  he.  "  Go  and 
bring  out  William's  trunk,  and  let  us  be  off,  for  we  have  no  time  to 
lose."  The  Captain  had  no  idea  of  witnessing  the  parting  scene. 
He  waited  and  shivered  for  it  was  cold.  "  Come  on,  William,  my 
brave  boy — come  on;  we've  a  long  road  and  a  bad  road  to  travel;" 
bawled  out  the  Captain  to  the  vacant  entry. 

No  response  came,  but  sobs  and  blowing  of  noses. 

"  Tom  !  Tom  !"  cried  the  Captain. 

Tom  was  waiting  his  turn  to  bid  "  mas'  W^illiara  "  good-by,  and 
mingling  his  tears  with  those  of  the  two-  families,  of  course,  he  had 
forgotten  the  trunk.  The  wind  began  to  rise  a  little,  and  the  Cap- 
tain began  to  backslide  rapidly  from  his  conversion  of  the  evening 
before, 

"  John  !"  cried  the  Captain.     No  answer. 

"Sal!"  "Lotty!"  "Nance!" 

They  were  all  around  "mas'  William;"  nothing  doubting  but 
that  the  saturnal  of  the  preceding  evening  would  be  extended  to  the 
catastrophe  of  the  occurrence  which  produced  it.  The  wind  rose  a 
little  higher,  and  the  Captain's  impatience  rose  a  great  deal  higher. 
At  length,  it  gave  way  entirely;  and,  lighting  from  the  vehicle,  he 
bolted  into  the  mourning-hall,  with  a  step,  and  a  tongue,  and  a  pas- 
sion, exceedingly  unbecoming  the  solemnities  of  the  occasion,  and 
exceedingly  opposite  to  his  recent  experience.  The  first  object  that 
met  his  eye  was  Tom,  repeating  precisely  the  part  he  played  the 
night  before,  when  the  Captain  was  so  much  affected,  i,  e.  with 
swimming  eyes,  and  mellowed  heart,  contemplating  William.  "  You 
black  rascal,"  vociferated  the  Captain;  "  what  do  you  stand  sniveling 
here  for  ?  (John,  go  to  my  horse  !")  Didn't  I  order  you  to  bring 
out  the  trunk  ?" 

"  Kigh,  mas'  David  !"  said  Tom,  retiring  a  little  briskly;  "  Nig- 
ger got  feeling  well  as  white  folks  !"     You  feel,  too,  sometimes." 

"  You  impertinent  scoundrel !  if  you  aint  off  for  that  trunk  pretty 
quick,  I'll  make  you   feel  worse  than  white  folks." 

There  was  a  lurking   comparison  in  this  reply  of  Tom,  between 


MAgTBR    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  65 

himself  and  "  mas'  David,"  decidedly  tavorablc  to  himself;  and  a 
plain  intimation  in  it  that  he  regarded  the  Captain  as  a  clear  case  of 
apostacy  or  inconsistency.  But  the  Captain  was  in  too  great  a  hurry 
to  analyze,  argue,  or  resent.  "  I  Lave,  been  out  there  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,"  continued  he,  "freezing,  and  bawling,  and  squalling 
for  every  negro  on  the  plantation,  and  not  one  could  I  find." 
(^Exeunt  blacks,  as  from  patrol.)  "  I  have  now  hardly  time  to  reach 
old  Smith's,  before  night ;  and  to  be  caught  in  the  night,  on  such 
roads,  will  be  awful.     Anna,  is  William  ready  ?" 

"  Just  a  moment,  brother,  till  I  tie  this  handkerchief  over  his  ears; 
the  weather's  bitter  cold." 

While  the  Captain  was  awaiting  this  process,  ten  distinct  thumps 
from  the  stair-case  fell  upon  his  car,  and  then  a  harsh,  raking  sound 
of  terrible  import,  when  Tom  announced  ;  "  Here's  the  trunk,  mas' 
David."  The  Captain  turned,  and  beheld  one  of  the  biggest  trunks 
of  th6  day.  He  ran  to  it  and  hrfted  it,  as  the  Yankees  say,  and 
grunted  furiously. 

"  Anna,"  said  he,  "  that  trunk  can't  go  on  the  chaise — it's  impos- 
sible." 

"  It  is  the  very  smallest  I  could  get  to  hold  the  boy's  things, 
brother." 

"  What  have  you  got  in  it  ?" 

"  Nothing,  but  William's  clothes,  and  a  few  little  nick-knacks." 
"  Well,  you'll  have  to  divide  them,    and  put,  them  in  two  small 
trunks — one  to  be'lashed  on  behind,  and  the  other  to  go  in  the  foot; 
aid  it's  a  pretty  time  to  begin  that  work  !" 

The  Captain  was  too  snappish  to  be  reasoned  with  ;  so,  by  contri- 
butions from  the  girls,  the  small  trunks  were  soon  furnished,  and  the 
unpacking  and  re-packing  commenced. 

We  will  not  detain  the  reader  with  a  detail  of  the  wardrobe.  Suf- 
fice it  to  say,  that  al'tcr  stopping  in  tran^'dn  three  shirts,  throe  pair 
ot  stock^lgs,  two  under-shirts,  one  full  winter  suit,  and  two  •ummer 
suits,  the  Captain  saw  the  two  small  trunks  filled  to  their  utmost  ca- 
pacity with  hard  pressing ;  and  yet  there  was  a  thin  layer  of  clothing 
on  the  ceiJing  of  the  basement  story  of  the  large  trunk  ;  we  must 
explain.  Mrs.  Mitten,  with  Tom's  help  had  placed  two  blocks  of 
wood  in  the  bottom  of  the  trunk,  upon  which  she  laid  a  nice,  clean, 
thin  white-pine  board,  that  was  so  neatly  adjusted  to  the  measure  of 
the  trunk,  that  it  divided  it  into  two  apartments.  The  board  was 
lifted,  and  disclosed  one  pound  cake,  one  dozen  sugar-biscuite,  one 
ditto  doughnuts,  two  pounds  raisins,  two  ditto  almonds,  (shelled,)  one 
ditto  prunes,  with  chinking  of  sugar-plums  innumerable. 


66  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

"  Williara,  son,"  said  his  motber,  ''I  reckon  you'll  have  to  leave 
these ;  I  don't  know  how  you  can  carry  them." 
■  It  seemed  to  be  a  hopeless  case  to  all,  hnd  Bill  surrendered  with 
a  long  deep  sigh,  which  touched  the  Captain's  heart  a  little;  and 
casting  his  eyes  to  William,  who  looked  like  a  week's  washing  of 
clothes  piled  together,  he  said,  with  a  slight  smirk  :  "  There's' nothing 
in  the  chaise-box  but  a  snack,  and  a  little  bundle  of  under-clothing 
for  myself ;  you  can  put  as  many  of  these  things  in  that  as  it  will 
hold ;  but  be  quick  about  it  !" 

This  was  refreshing.  It  was  regarded  as  a  full  atonement  for  all  the 
petulance,  impatience,  and  crustiness  that  the  Captain  had  exhibited. 
One  of  the  girls  bounced  into  the  chaise ;  and  by  the  aid  of  the  rest 
of  the  company,  she  was  soon  enabled  to  stow  away  in  the  box  a 
goodly  portion  of  all  the  varieties  of  nick-knacks  just  mentioned.  In 
the  meantime  the  trunks  took  their  places,  the  final  kisses  were  dis- 
posed of,  and  a  minute  more  found  the  Captain  and  William  on  their 
way.  Nothing  of  special  interest  occurred  on  the  journey.  The 
Captain  gave  William  much  encouragement  and  good  advice,  and 
fretted  a  little  at  having  to  travel  a  half  hour  in  the  night  to  make 
his  first  stage,  but,  as  no  accident  occurred,  he  was  easily  reconciled 
to  it.  Four  o'clock  the  next  day  (Saturday,)  found  them  at  the 
public  house,  or  rather  boarding  house,  of  Mr,  Nelson  Newbj,  Abbe- 
ville District,  South  Carolina.  It  was  a  rude  log-house,  with  two 
rooms,  about  sixteen  feet  square  each,  and  an  entry  nearly  as  large, 
between  them.  In  the  rear  of  it  was  another  building  of  the  same 
material,  somewhat  shortei*  and  narrower  than  the  first.  This  was 
the  dining  room.  Six  or  seven  small  edifices  of  the  same  kind  scat- 
tered around,  with  little  order,  served  as  students'  lodges.  A  rail 
fence'  (or  rather  the  remains  of  one,)  three  feet  high,  enclosed  the 
whole.  About  twenty  boys  of  various  sizes,  were  busily  engaged  in 
cutting,  splitting,  and  piling  wood,  at  the  doors  of  their  respective 
tenements — the  roughest  looking  set  of  students  that  ever  fepeated 
the  notes  of  Homer  and  Virgil  since  the  world  began.  The  prospect 
looked  gloomy,  even  to  the  Captain,  and  terrific  to  William. 

"  Uncle,"  whispered  he,  ''  these  can't  be  big  people's  sons  V 

"  Well — don't  know — they're  pretty  rough  looking  fellows — but 
— they  seem  to  be  very  industrious  boys."  Poor  comfort  to  William. 
The  Captain  and  his  landlord,  of  course,  soon  became  acquainted; 
and  the  first  expressing  a  wish  to  see  Mr.  Waddel,  the  last  kindly 
offered  to  escort  him  to  the  teacher's  residence. 

"  It  is  not  far  out  of  the  way  to  go  by  the  Academy;  would  you 
like  to  see  it  'I"  said  Mr.  Newby. 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MIITEN.  &l 

"  Very  much,"    replied  the  Captain. 

They  set  forward,  and  at  the  distance  of  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  yards  from  Mr.  NeAvby's  premises,  they  entered  a  street,  shaded 
by  majestic  oaks,  and  composed  entirely  of  log  huts,  varying  in  size 
from  six  to  sixteen  feet  square.  The  truth  of  history  demands  that 
we  should  say,  that  there  was  but  one  of  the  smallest  size  just  indi- 
cated, and  that  was  the  whimsical  structure  of  a  very  whimsical  fel- 
low, by  the  name  of  Dredzel  Pace.  It  was  endancercd  from  fire 
once,  and /o!//- stout  students  took  it  up  by  the  corners,  and  removed 
it  to  a  place  of  safety. 

The  street  was  about  forty  yards  wide,  and  its  length  was  perhaps 
double  its  width ;  and  yet  the  houses  on  either  side  did  not  number 
more  than  ten  or  twelve  ;  of  course,  therefore  they  stood  generally  in 
very  open  order.  They  were  all  built  by  the  students  themselves,  or 
by  architects  of  their  hiring.  They  served  for  study-houses  iu  cold 
or  rainy  weather,  though  the  students  were  allowed  to  study  where 
they  pleased  within  convenient  reach  of  the  monitors.  The  common 
price  of  a  building,  on  front  roic,  water  proof,  and  easily  chinked, 
was  five  dollars — the  chinking  was  generally  removed  in  summer  for 
ventilation.  In  the  suburbs,  were  several  other  buildings  of  the 
same  kind,  erected  by  literary  recluses,  we  suppose,  who  could  not 
endure  the  din  of  the  city  at  play-time — at  ploi/-lim.e  we  say,  for 
there  was  no  din  in  it  in  study  hours.  At  the  head  of  the  street, 
eastward,  stood  the  Academy,  differing  in  nothing  from  the  other 
buildings  but  in  .size  and  the  number  of  its  rooms..  It  had  two;  the 
smaller  devoted  to  a  primary  school  of  a  few  boys  and  girls,  over 
-which  Moses  Waddel  Dobbins,  a  nephew  of  the  Hector,  presided. 
These  soon  left,  and  Mr.  Pobbins  became  assistant-general  to  his 
uncle. .  The  larger,  was  the  recitation  room  of  Mr.  Waddel  himself, 
the  prayer  room,  court  room,'  (see  ixfra)  and  general  convocation 
room  for  all  matters  concerning  the  school.  It  was  without  seata, 
and  just  large  enough  to  contain  one  hundred  and  fifty  boys  standing 
erect,  close  pressed,  and  leave  a  circle  of  six  feet  diameter  at  the 
door,  for  jigs  and  cotillons  at  the  teacher's  regular  soirees,  every 
Monday  morning. 

A  delightful  spring  gushed  from  the  foot  ol  the  hill  on  which  the 
."chool-house  stood  ;  and  at  the  distance  of  but  a  few  paces,  poured 
its  waters  into  a  lovely  brook,  which  wound  through  a  narrow  plain, 
covered  with  stately  beeches. — Venerable  old  chroniclers  of  revered 
njynes  and  happy  days,  where  arc  ye! — It  was  under  the  canopy  of 
these  beautiful  ornaments  of  the  foreat,  by  the  side  of  that  whisper- 


68  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITOEN. 

inor  brook,  that  we  felt  the  first  gleam  of  pleasure  that  we  ever  de- 
rived from  anything  in  Latin.  And  here  are  the  words  Avhich 
awakened  it : 

''  Tityre  tu  jmtulce  rccuhans  stih  Ugminc  fagi, 

SilceBtrmi  temti  7mmmi  meditaris  avenn." 
Our  party  having  taken  a  Hasty  survey  of  these  things  bent  their 
way  to  Castle  (Jarherrij.  As  they  journeyed  on,  Mr.  Newby  pointed 
out  the  ground  over  which  Sam  Shanklin  and  Mr.  Y/addel  had  a 
notable  race.  Sam  had  offended  "  Old  Moses"  (so  he  were  called, 
even  in  his  prime  which  he  had  now  hardly  left,)  and  as  the  latter 
approached  him  whip  in  hand,  Sam,  took  to  his  heels,  not  dreaming 
that  old  Moses  would  follow  him.  But  he  was  mistaken ;  he  did 
follow  him,  and  gained  upon  him  at  every  step,  a  little — Sam,  find- 
ing; his  pursuer  too  fleet  for  him  sought  safety  in  lofty  leaping  ;  so  he 
made  for  a  brush  heap.  Just  as  he  reached  it,  old  Moses  fetched 
him  a  wipe  upon  the  legs  that  energized  his  activity  to  unmatchable 
achievement,  and  he  cleared  the  brush  heap  at  a  bound.  Here  the 
race  ended.  The  Captain  laughed  heartily  at  the  story ;  but  William 
saw  no  fun  in  it. 

Castle  Carberry  stood  on  the  highway  leading  from  Augusta, 
Georgia,  to  Abbeville  Court  House,  South  Carolina,  and  about  equi- 
distant from  Mr.  Newby's  and  the  Academy.  By  w^om  it  was 
erected,  we  are  not  informed  3  probably,  by  Samuel  Shields,  an.  as- 
sistant of  Mr.  Waddel,  who  had  occupied  it  for  two  years,  previotis 
to  the  time  of  which  we  are  speaking,  and  who  was  just  now  gather- 
ing up  his  goods  and  chattels  for  his  final  departure  from  the  place, 
and  for  a  much  more  interesting  engagement.*  Its  name  was  doubt- 
less derived  from  Maria  Roche's  novel— ^TAe  Children  of  the  Ahhy, 
which  had  a  great  run  in  that  day ;  but  to  tell  wherein  the  two 
Castle  Carberry's  were  alike,  would  puzzle  the  greatest  connuudrum- 
solver  that  ever  lived.  Upon  the  retirement  of  Mr,  Shields,  Alex- 
ander B.  Linton  succeeded  to  his  pos.se.«sions,  and  James  L.  Petigru 
to  his  office  (not  as  some  have  most  erroneously  supposed,  the  Mr. 
Pentigall,  of  the  '  Georgia  Scenes,')  though  it  was  in  this  very  castle 
that  the  great  question  was  discussed  :  ''  Whether  at  public  elections 
should  the  votes  of  faction  predominate  by  internal  suggestions  or 
the  bias  of  jurisprudence  1"  Mr.  Petigru  had  been  in  Columbia 
CoUce,  a  year  or  more  before  the  discussion  came  off. 

Some  two  or  three  students  always  boarded  themselves  at  Castle 

*He  soon  after  married  a  young  lady  of  Vienna. 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MITTEN".  69. 

Carberry.  It  served  as  a  nucleus  around  which  other  edifices  of  like 
kind  and  for  like  purposes  galherod,  all  built  of  the  common  ma- 
terial. We  think  its  tenants  were,  in  ISIittcn's  day,  Alex.  B,  Linton, 
Henry  Rasenel,  Samuel  Weir,  and  William  D.  Martin. 

At  Castle  Carberry  the  promcnadcrs  re  entered  the  big  road  which 
they  had  left  atNewby's,  having  now  seen  all  of  Willi ngtonpro/xjr; 
Willington  common  embraced  every  housj  within  three  miles  of  the 
Academy.  As  they  entered  the  load,  a  messenger  called  for  Mr. 
Newby  to  return  home  on  some  special  business.  Ho  gave  the  Cap- 
tain directions  to  Mr.  Waddel's,  and  returned.  The  directions  were 
simply  to  keep  the  road  to  the  next  house.  A  walk  of  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  or  a  little  over,  brought  the  Captain  and  his  charge  to  the  re- 
sidence of  the  renowned  teacher.  It  was  a  comfortable,  framed 
building,  two  stories  high,  neatly,  but  plainly  paled  in — very  rare 
things  in  that  vicinity. 

Some  six  or  eight  more  boy.s,  like  the  Newbyites,  were  differently 
employed  about  the  premises. 

"  Do  you  know,  my  son,"  said  the  Captain,  addressing  one  of 
them,  "  whether  Mr.  AVaddel  is  at  hoine  ?" 

"  Yes  sir,"  said  the  youth,  springing  to  the  door,  and  opening  it, 
"  Walk  in,  take  seats,  and  I  will  call  him." 

He  disappeared,  and  in  a  moment  returned  with  Mr.  Waddel. 

"  Mr.  Waddel,  I  presume,"  said  the  Captain. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Thompson,  sir,  is  my  •name,  and  this  is  my  nephew,  William 
Mitten,  whom  I  have  brought  to  place  under  your  instruction." 

"It  is  rather  chilly,  hero,"  said  the  teacher,  shaking  their  hands 
cordially,  "walk  into  my  study,  where  I  have  a  good  fire."  Won't 
you  go  in,  David  '("  added  he  to  the  guide,  who  was  about  retiring. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  sir,  said  David. 

"  That's  a  sprightly  youth,"  said  the  Captain,  as  he  moved  towards 
the  study,   "and  he  is  a  namesake  of  mine." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  teacher,  "  he  is  a  clever  boy — the  son  of  the  cele- 
brated Doctor  Ramsay." 

"What!  Doctor  Ramsay,  the  patriot,  statesman,  and  historian — 
who  married  the  accomplished  daughter  of  the  renowned  Henry 
Laurens,  President  of  the  first  Congress  of  the  United  States,  Min- 
ister to  HoUnnd.  and  father  of  the  gallant  John  I/aurfens,  the  beloved 
of  Washinjrton  ?" 


YO  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

This  was  a  clear  Rphmjc^"  for  William's  benefit. 

"  The  same,"  said  Mr.  Waddel. 

<<  Well  I  feel  myself  honored  in  bearing  the  boy's  name. 

Before  this  conversation  ended,  all  were  seated  in  the  teacher's 
study.     It   was   crowded    with  books — partly  the  teacher's  private 

library partly,  books  laid  in  for  the  students  which  he  furnished  at 

cost  and  charges  on  Philadelphia  prices. 

«'  Have  you  studied  Latin,  WiUiam  ?"  enquired  Mr.  Waddel. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  How  far  have  you  gone  ?" 

"I  was  reading  Virgil,  when  I  quit  school." 

"  Well,  I  have  a  large  Virgil  class,  which  will  be  divided  on 
Monday.  I  have  found  that  some  of  them  are  keeping  others  baok; 
and  I  have  ordered  them  to  get  as  long  a  lesson  as  they  can  for 
Monday  morning.  Those  who  get  the  most  and  recite  the  best,  will 
be  put  in  one  class  and  the  rest  in  another.  No^v,  you  can  take 
either  division  of  this  class  that  you  may  be  found  qualified  for,  or 
you  may  enter  the  Selectee  class,  which  will  commence  Virgil  in  two 
or  three  months.  Meet  me  at  the  Academy  on  Monday  morning, 
and  we  will  see  what  will  he  best.'' 

"  How  many  pupils  have  you,  Mr.  Waddel  ?" 'inquired  the  Cap- 
tain. 

"  About  one  hundred  and  fifty." 

"Where  do  they  board?" 

"  Just  where  they  please,  among  the  neighbors  around.  They  all 
take  boarders,  and  roside  at  different  mstanees  from  the  academy, 
yaryinti'  from  a  few  hundred  yards  to  three  miles." 

«<  Have  the  students  to  cut  aad  haul  their  own  firewood,  and  make 
their  own  fires  ?" 

"  Not  always.  At  some  of  the  boarding  houses  the  landlords 
have  tlrese  things  done  for  them,  and  at  all,  they  may  hire  servants 
to  perform  them,  if  they  will,  or,  rather,  if  they  can  ;  but,  as  'at 
every  house  there  is  at  least  a  truck-v:agon  and  horse  at  the  service 
of  the  students,  and  wood  is  convenient  and  abundant,  and  to  be  had 
without  stint  or  cfiarge,  they  generally  supply  themselves,  and  make 
their  own  fires." 

During  this  coiiversation,  which  from  the  beginning  to  end,  was 
of  the  most  alarming  interest  to  WiWdam,  his  eyes  wide  open,  were 
fixed  on  Mr.  W-addel,  who  was  an  object  of  still  more  alarming  in- 

*  A  splurge  is  a  moral  cavort.    Both  are  embraced  in  the  generic  term,  cutting 

tJiines.     Ga.   Vocab. 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  71 

terest  to  hiiu.  He  had  never  secu — we  have  never  seen — a  man  of 
sterner  features  than  Mr.  Waddel  bore.  From  the  time  that  William 
entered  the  house  to  the  time  that  he  leff  it,  "shadows,  clouds,  and 
darkness  "  were  gatherin<^  and  deepening  upon  his  mind  ;  relieved 
only  by  one  faint  gleam  of  light  from  young  Eamsay,  whom  he  re- 
garded as  the  concentrated  extract  of  all  that  was  august,  and  great^ 
and  gifted,  and  good  in  the  United  States,  if  not  in  the  world ;  and 
an  ample  verification  j^^r  sr  of  all  that  his  uncle  had  told  him  about 
"  big  men's  sons." 

William  was  entered  in  due  form  a  student  of  Mr.  Waddel's 
school ;  and  the  Captain  having  enquired  of  the  post  office  at  which 
the  students  received  their  letters,  and  pressed  Mr.  Waddel  to  give 
him  early  information  of  William's  conduct,  standing,  and  progress, 
he  left  with  bis  charge  for  Mr.  Newby's.  A  long  silence  ensued. 
x\t  length  it  was  broken  by  William. 

"  Mr.  Waddel  is  the  grummest  looking  man  I  ever  saw." 

"Pretty  sour,"  said  the  Captain.  '<  But  I  don't  reckon  he  is  as 
bad  as  he  lopks  to  be.  The  boys  seem  cheerful  around  him  ;  and 
David  Eamsay  seemed  perfectly  easy  in  his  presence." 

The  truth  is,  the  Captain  was  sore  pressed  for  encouragements 
himself,  and  it  was  the  luckiest  thing  in  the  world  for  him  that  he 
happened  to  fall  in  with  young  Eamsay  just  when  he  did. 

"  I  had  an  idea,"  continued  the  Captain,  "of  proposing  to  Mr. 
Waddel  to  take  you  to  board  with  him ;  but  it  occurred  to  me  that 
you  might  prefer  to  board  somewhere  else;  and  I  am  perfectly  will- 
ing to  accommodate  you  in  this  matter." 

"  Uncle,  I  wouldn't  board  with  him  for  five  hundred  thousand 
dollars !" 

*'  Well,  my  son,  I  will  not  placo  you  with  him.  I  think  the  best 
way  will  be  for  you  to  board  at  Mr.  Newby's,  for  the  present.  After 
you  become  acquainted  with  the  other  boarding  houses,  you  can  take 
your  choice  among  them." 

Silence  ensued,  which  we  fill  up  with  a  more  particular  account 
of  Mr.  Waddel.  As  he  was  made  a  Doctor  of  Divinity  soon  after 
the  time  at  which  we  are  speaking  of  him,  we  will  anticipate  a  little, 
and  call  him  henceforth  Doctor  Waddel. 

He  was  about  five  feet  nine  inches  high  ;  of  stout  mu.scular  frame, 
and  a  little  inclined  to  corpulency.  In  limb,  nearly  perfect.  His  head 
was  uncommonly  large,  and  covered  with  a  thick  coat  of  dark.  hair. 
His  forehead  was  projecting,  and  in  nothing  els«  more  remarkable. 
His  eyes  were  grey  and  overshadowed  by  thick,  heavy  eye-brows,  al- 


72  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITl'fiN.  >,. 

ways  closely  knit  in  bis  calmest  hours,  and  almost  ovcr-lapping  in 
his  angry  moods.  His  nose  was  bluntly  acquiline.  His  lips  were 
rather  thick,  and  generally  closely  compressed.  His  complesioa 
was  slightly  adust.  His  iovt  cnscmhle  was,  as  we  have  said,  ex- 
tremely austere;  but  it  was  false  to  his  heart;  for  he  was  benevolent, 
affectionate,  charitable,  hospitable,  and  kind.  He  was  cheerful,  and 
even  playful,  in  his  disposition.  Good  boys  felt  at  perfect  ease  in 
his  presence,  and  even  bad  ones  could,  aud  did,  approach  him  with 
the  utmost  freedom.  He  never  whipt  in  a  passion — indeed,  he 
seemed  to  be  in  his  most  pleasant  moods  when  he  administered  cor- 
rection, and  hence,  a  stranger  to  him  would  naturally  suppose  that  he 
took  pleasure  in  flogging.  It  was  not-so,  howe-ver.  He  hardly  ever 
whipt,  but  upon  the  report  of  a  monitor ;  and  after  a  year  or  two 
from  Master  Mitten's  introduction  to  him,  very  rarely,  but  upon  a 
verdict  of  a  jury  of  students.  His  government  was  one  of  touaking 
"  moral  suasion;"  but  he  administeied  it  in  a  new  way.  Instead  of 
infusing  it  gently  into  the  head  and  heart,  and  letting  it  percolate 
through  the  system,  and  slowly  neutralize  the  ill  humors  with  which 
it  "came  in  contact,  he  applied  it  to  the  extremities,  and  drove  it 
right  up  into  the  head  and  heart  by  percussion.  He  seemed  to  re- 
gard vices  as  consuming  fires,  and  he  adopted  the  engine  process  of 
extinguishing  them.  One  would  suppose  that  moral  reforms,  so 
hastily  produced  could  not  bust;  but  we  have  living  cases  to  prove 
that  they  have  lasted  for  fifty-three  years,  and  are  still  fresh  and  vi- 
gorous. It  is  a  very  remarkable  fact  that  Doctor  .Waddel  never 
flogged  a  boy  for  a  deficient  lesson.  To  be  "  turned  off,"  as  it  was 
called — that  is,  to  have  to  get  a  lesson  over  a  second  time,  was  con- 
sidered such  a  disgrace  by  the  students,  that  if  this  did  not  cure  the 
fault,  whipping,  he  well  knew,  would  not.  He  would  often  mount 
hia  horse  at  eight  o'clock  at  night,  and  visit  the  students  at  their 
boarding  houses.  Sometimes  he  would  visit  them  incognito^  and  re- 
count his  observations  the  next  da}'  to  the  whole  school,  commending 
such  youths  as  he  found  well  employed,  and  censuring  such  as  he 
found  ill  employed.  And  what  were  the  fruits  of  this  rigid  but 
equitable  discipline  ?  From  under  the  teachings  of  this  man  have 
gone  forth  one  Vice  President,  and  many  Foreign  and  Cabinet  Min- 
isters ;  and  Senators,  Congressmen,  Governors,  Judges,  Presidents, 
and  Professors  of  Colleges,  eminent  Divines,  Barristers,  Jurists,  Le- 
gislators, Physicians,  Scholais,  Military  and  Naval  officers,  innumer- 
able. 

Captain  Thompson  returned  to  Mr.  Newby's.     His- name  had  been 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  73 

made  known  to  the  boys  during  his  absence.  One  of  them  intro- 
■duced  himself  to  hitii  as  the  son  of  Doctor  Hay,  a  near  and  dear 
friend  of  the  Captain,  in  times  gone  by.  The  youth  was  made  ac- 
quainted with  ^yiIliam — ofi'ered  him  a  part  of  his  bed  and  study, 
which  were  accepted.  Before  retiring  to  rest,  the  Captain  paid  a 
hasty  visit  to  William's  new  dormitory.  lie  found  him  at  a  table, 
with  three  others,  who  were  studying  their  leeson.s  before  a  rousing 
fire.  They  seemed  very  cheerful  and  happy.  After  a  few  questions, 
bo  withdrew,  and  left  them  to  their  studies.  An  early  hour  the 
next  morning  found  him  on  his  way  homeward. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Monday  morning  came,  ahd  Willi;im  moved  sadly  to  the  Academy. 
Soon  the  students  of  ever^'  size  began  to  pour  in  from  every  quarter; 
and  soon  the  whole  school  was  in  commotio*.  George  Cary  had  got 
a  thousand  lines  in  Virgil !  He  was  to  leave  his  ckss,  of  course.;  for 
such  a  lesson  had  never  been  heard  of  before,  even  in  Dr.  Waddel's 
school,  where  the  students  seemed  to  take  in  Latin  and  Greek  by  ab- 
sorption.* As  his  classmates  came  in,  they  compared  notes^and  not 
one  of  them  had  got  raore  than  tliree  hundred  Yuks.  "  I  didn't  get 
but  t\ro  hundred  and  ten,"  said  one ;  "  I  didn't  get  but  two  hun- 
dred," said  another.  "  Well,  I'm  at  the  foot  of  all,"  said  a  third,  "  I 
didn't  get  but  a  hundred  and  fifty;  so  I'm  double  distanced,  and 
left,  of  course." 

William  heard  these  reports  with  ovorwhclniing  amazement.  The 
largest  lesson  he  had  ever  recited  was  thiity-fivc  lines,  and  the  largest 
he  had  ever  heard  of  being  recited  was  olic  hundred.  He  had 
been  led  to  believe  that  his  native  village  was  the  very  focus  of  in- 
tellectual illumination  and  mental  vigor,  and  that  he  himself  wa.s  the 
centre-beam  of  the  focus.  He  did  not  suppose  that  Latin  and  Greek 
were  made  for  country  folks  at  all,  much  less  for  poor  folks;  and  be- 
hold, there  stood  before  him  homespun,f  Gilbo-shod,  potato-fed  chaps, 

*  George  McDuffie  .ifterwnrds  overtof>t  Gary,  for  lie  recited  twelve  hundred 
and  twelve  lines,  in  Ilorace,  for  a  Monday  nibrning's  lesson. 

}  We  give  this  name  as  it  \v.a,s  pronounced*  Wo  think  it  was  spelled  Gnille- 
bou.  lie  was  shoeinaker-f;cnor:il  for  tlio  school,  and  one  of  the  best  that  over 
lived.  The  soles  of  his  alioes  wore  about  half  an  iiich  tliicK',  and  the  heels  thrqa,- 
quarters.  The  npper  leather  in  exact  proportion  with  the  soles.  In  short,  th^ 
wore  brogans  in  all  respects,  of  the  stoutest  sort.  It  took  them  about  a  month 
to  show  outward  signs  of  an  inward  foot.  Then  they  began  to  wrinkle  down  to 
something  like  foot-shape;  with  only  a  tolerable  greasing,  they  werb  good  for  a 
year,  certain.*  , 


74  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN". 

even  smaller  than  himself,  who  had  mastered  one  huudred  and  fifty 
lines  in  Virgil,  acknowledging  themselves  the  fag-end  of  their  class, 
and  "  double  distanced  !"  His  .mind  was  immediately  made  up  to 
take  the  se/ec^asclass/mortifying  as  it  was  to  a  gentleman  of  his  calibre 
to  have  it  known  at  home  that  he  had  retrograded ;  but  could  he 
keep  up  with  this  class?  He  had  little  hope  of  doing  so;  but  so 
shocking  was  the  idea  of  falling  two  classes  below  his  home  stand, 
that  he  resolved  to  try  it  at  all  events.  He  had  one  consolation,  at 
least,  and  that  was,  that  none  of  the  school-boys  knew  of  his  advance- 
ment before  he  came  hither.  Withal,  he  concluded  that  there  must 
be  a  something  about  Doctor  Waddel's  rschool  that  made  all  the  boys 
who  came  to  it  smart,  and  whatever  that  something  might  be,  he  surely 
would  catch  it  in  a  short  time.  The  Doctor  soon  made  his  appear- 
ance ;  and  William  signified  to  him  his  choice  of  classes. 

The  school  was  summoned  to  prayer,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  this 
service  the  monitors'  bills  were  handed  in,  and  the  dancing  room 
cleared.  The  Doctor  read  over  to  himself  the  bills,  with  an  afi'ected 
seriousness,  while  a  death-like  silence  reigned  around  him  ;  his  coun- 
tenance meantime  assuming  all  varieties  of  expressions.  It  was  very 
easy  for  .those  well  acquainted  with  him,  to  collect  from  these  indica- 
tions the  general  character  of  the  bills  in  hand;  and  the  signs  this 
morning  were  of  things  grave,  novel,  funny  and  common. 

The  reading  finished,  the  Doctor  began  :  "  Pretty  heavy  bills ! 
some  things  new  even  to  me.  Garrett  Sandige,  go  and  get  the 
change  to  settle  ofiF  these  bills,  and  see  that  it  is  such  as  has  the 
genuine  ring  !"  To  a  correct  understanding  of  the  first  case  on  the 
docket,  it  is  necessary  to  premise  a  little.  John  Freeman  had  beea 
exalted  for  the  first  time  to  the  dignity  of  Monitor  on  the  preced- 
ing week,  and  he  had  over-acted  his  part  a  litttle;  he  was  rather  too. 
vigilant  and  authoritative. 

To  economise  time,  while  Garrett  Sandige  was  collecting  the 
change,  the  Doctor  sounded  the  docket  in  a  humorously  emphatic  and 
pompous  style : 

Austm  B.  -Over street,  for  heivg  idle  repeatedly!  What  say  you,. 
Austin  ?" 

'*  I  deny  it,  sir,"  said  Overstreet. 
"  Monitor,  speak!" 
♦"  Doctor  Waddel,  almost  every  day  in  the  week  he  follows  me  aU 
about  with  his  Greek  grammar  in  his  hand,  and  goes  on  in  this  way  : 
tupto,  tvpteis,  tuptei,  (of  all  the  monitors)   tupteton,  trtptetov,  (that  I 
ever  saw  in  my  life)   tuptonien,  tuptete,   (John   Freeman  takes  the 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  75 

lead)   tupto-usi,  (rather  rousy.)     I  told  him  I'd  spunh  him,  (report 
him)  if  he  didn't  quit  it,  and  he  wouldn't,  so  I  spunked  him." 

During  th'ese  pleadings  the  Doctor's  face  put  on  all  sorts  of  expreg- 
sionS ;  to  maintain  the  dignity  of  the  Monitor's  character,  it  was  of 
the  first  im^portance  that  he  should  hear  him  with  the  profoundest 
respect  and  gravit'y;  and-yet  there  was  something  so  novel  and  farci- 
cal in  this  case,  that  he  could  with  difficulty  suppress  open  laughter. 
He  drew  his  eyebrows  to  their  closest,  pressed  his  lip§  forcibly  to- 
gether for  a  moment,  and  then  passed  judgment : 

"This  is  a  new  case — I  confess  it  perjilexes  me  not  a  little.  It 
seems  to  be  a  case  in  which  study  and  idleness  are  so  equally  aad  in- 
timately blended,  that  you  can't  hit  idleness  without  at  least  grazing 
s(vd^,  nor  indulge  stud^t/  without  indulging  idleness.  If,  as  soon  as 
Overstrcet  began  to  make  up  his  compound,  you  had  informed  me, 
Mr.  Monitxir,  of  his  experiment,  I  could  have  given  you  a  recipe  that 
would  have  precipitated  the  feculent  matter  so  entirely  from  the  pure, 
that  we  might  have  dealt  with  it  this  morning  without  danger  sf  dis- 
turbing the  pure;  but  as  it  ife,  with  no  antecedent  law  to  meet  such  a 
case,  and  under  the  maxim  thin  it  is  best  to  err  on  the  safe  side— tha 
side  of  mercy — if  we  err  at  all,  1  will  let  the  matter  pass  for  this 
time;  but  if  you  come  up  again,  Austin,  with  such  a  mixture  of 
Greek  and  English  in  the  presence  of  a  monitor,  I'll  teach  you  the 
first  future  tense  of  your  Greek  verb  in  such  a  style  that  you'll  never 
think  of  mingling  English  with  it  again  while  you  live,  unless  it  be 
the  true  English."        * 

Before  this  case  was  disposed  of,  Sandige  had  returned  with  about 
a  half  dozen  hickories  beautifully  I  rimmed  The  Doctor  took  one, 
drew  it  through  his  left  hand,  found  it  kuotless,  gave  it  an  experi- 
mental flourish,  liked  the  ring,  and  proceeded : 

"  Garrij-Osko- Sapling,  for  being  idle  repeatcdli/  .'" 
Garry  stepped  into  the  ring  without  defence. 

The  Doctor  gave  him  one  cut  and  paused — "  Garry,"  paid  he,  very 
good  humoredly,  "  that  doesn't  sound  right.  My  ear  don't  often  de- 
ceive me."  So  saying  he  stooped  down  and  raised  up  the  pants  of 
the  left  leg,  pulled  down  the  stocking,  and  discovered  a  tasteful  and 
most  artistic  binding  of  the  calf  and  its  appurtenances,  with  long 
narrow  strips  of  old  shirt.  The  Doctor  manifested  not  the  least  sur- 
prise at  this,  but  very  deliberately  commenced  unwinding.  At  ab(jpt 
every  yard  detached,  he  would  pause  and  look  up  to  the  school  with 
an  expression  of  countenance  which'-Bccmed  to  say,  "boys  needn't  try 
to  fool  me."     Having  unrolled  about  four  yards  and  a  half  of  swath- 


76  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN, 

ing  from  this  leg,  he  proceeded  to  the  other,  and  did  the  like.  Dur- 
ing the  whole  process  the  school  was  a  roar  of  laughter,  and  few 
laughed  more  heartily  than  Garrj  himself.  Having  returned  the 
stockings  and  pants  to  their  places,  "  let  us  have  fair  play,  Grarry," 
said  the  Doctor  !  "  Fair  play  is  a  jewel.  Now  stockings  are  fair, 
and  pants  arc  fair,  thick  or  thin.  If  I  can't  get  through  thorn,  why, 
that's  my  fault,  not  yours."  So  saying,  he  let  Garry  have  the  re- 
maining six  with  a  brilliancy  that  fully  compensated  for  tho  lost 
pleiad.  • 

"Why,  Neddy,  this  is  an  awful  account  for  one  week.  Monitor, 
are  any  of  these  charges  upon  your  own  observation  but  the  first  ?" 

"  None,  sir.  They  are  all  by  order  of  the  boys  whose  names  are 
to  them." 

''  Explain,  James  Freer,  what  is  meant  by  knocking  hy  your  nose." 

''  He  came  by  me,  and  struck  his  fist  as  hard  sis  he  could,  as  close 
to  my  nose  as  he  could  drive  it  to  miss  my  nose." 

"  Did  you  tell  him  to  quit  ?" 

"  Ye.s,  sir." 

"And  did  he  afterwards  repeat  the  blow?" 

''  No,  sir,  but  he  went  knocking  byllie  noses  of  twenty  boys  in  the 
same  way," 

"  How  wa."!  your  case,  Thomas  Murray?" 

"Exactly  the  same  as  Jim  Freer's,  sir," 

"What  have  you  to  .«ay  to  all  this,  Neddy  ?" 

"Why,  Doctor  Waddel,  I  was  just  playing  with  them.     I  quit  as 

soon  as  I  ^aw  they  didn't  like  it.  None  of  the  other  boys  got  mad 
at  it," 

"And  what's  your  case,  Malory  Ilivers?" — Malory  was  the  small- 
est boy  in  school,  save  one. 

"  He  come  up  to  me,  sab — be  came  up  to  me,  sah — an'  he  put  his 
face  mos'  touchiu'  mine,  and  he  opened  his  mouth  and  eyes  jus'  as 
wide  as  he  could  stretch  'em — putti'n  cut  bis  arms  over  me,  too,  like 
he  was  tryin'  to  scare  me." 

"  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Brace  ?" 

"  I  just  did  it  for  a  little  fuu — I  Wanted  to  see  what  he  would  do — 
and  I  got  the  worst  of  it,  too,  for  he  butted  me  on  the  nose,  and  I 
didn't  set  him  down  for  it." 

"  Did  you  butt  him  on  the  nose,  Malory  ?" 

"  T  give  liim  a  little  butt." 

•"Oh  well,  the  case  is  easily  settled;  if  you  take  justice  into  your 
own  hands,  you  mu.s.t  not  appeal  to  roe,  I  regard  a  little  butt  full  pay 
for  2ihig  look." 


MASTER    WILLIAM   illTTEN.  77 

''And  what  luivc*yriu  to  say,  James  Collier,  against  the  defendant? 
'Plaguing  with  a  dead  cat'  is  a  new  offence.     Explain  \"     * 

"lie  took  along  forked  stick,"  said.Colliev,  "  and  stuck  an  old 
dead  cat's  neck  ou  it,  and  swung  her  up  by  the  head,  and  swung  the 
stick  on  his  shoulder,  and  went  all  about  among  the  boys  like  he 
did'nt  see  'em,  stiukiu'  'em  up.  Sometimes  he'd  meet  a  boy,  and 
when  he  got  close  up  to  him,  he'd  wheel  off  another  way,  as  if  he 
just  thought  of  something,  and  swung  the  dead  cat  by  'em  almost 
touch'n  'em.  I,  and  Andrew  Govan,  and  Jim  Tinsley,  and  Sam 
McGraw,  and  Alfrcil  Hobby,  were  talking,  and  I  saw  Brace  coming 
with  his  cat,  and  I  hollo'd  to  him  and  .said  :  '  Now,  Brace,  I've  seen 
you  scatter  two  or  throe  parcels  of  boys  with  that  cat ;  and  if  you 
come  here  with  it,  i'U  spunk  you.  lie  pretended  he  did'nt  hear 
what  I  said,  and  kept  coming  up,  asking  me  all  the  time  whatlsaiii; 
and  he  knew  what  I  said  well  enough.  All  the  other  boys  run,  but 
I  wouldn't  run;  and  h'o  comes  to  me,  and  says:  ^.Timmcy,  I've 
been  hunting  all  over  the  school  to  find  somebody  t©  help  me  bury 
this  poor  cat :  but  they  are  the  hard-heartedest  set  of  boys  that  I 
ever  saw ;  wont  you  help  me,  Jimmey?'  So  without  saying  any- 
thing to  him,  I  went  off  and  spunked  him ;  and  just  as  I  started  off 
he  turned  round  ns  quick  as  he  could, *and  whirled  his  cat  almost 
all  rouni  me.  And  1  don't  "b'liete  there's  another  boy  in  the  world 
that  could  have  stood  that  cat  as  long  as  he  did,  just  to  have  his  fun 
out  of  the  other  boys." 

•  "  What  do  you  say  to  all  this,  Neddy  ?" 

"  Doctor  Waddel,  twenty  boys  will  tell  you  I  did  ai«k  them  to  go 
with  me  to  bury  the  cat.  I  don't  think  Jim  Collier  had  a  right  to 
order  mc  away  from  the  ofher  boys  he  wa,'^  talking  to.  If  he  didn't 
like  the  cat  ^d  ray  company,  why  didn't  he  go  off  as  the  other  boys 
did  ?  fhcy  all  thought  the  cat  smelt  bad,  but  it  didn't.  It  didn't 
smell  one  bit."  Here  the  Doctor  opened  his  eyes,  and  showed  signs 
of  light  which  materially  changed  the  aspect  of  the  case.  It  imme- 
diately flashed  upon  his  mind,  that  the  weather  had  been  very  cold 
for  a  week,  and  that,  perchance,  the  cat  was  not  offensive. 

"James,"  continued  he,  "did  you  smell  the  cat  ?" 

"  I  didn't  st^iy  long  enough  to  smell  it."    . 

"  But  you  say  he  whirled  it  round  you  as  you  went  off:  did  you 
smell  it  then  ?" 

"I  think  I  would  have  smelt  it  if  I  hadn't  held  my  breath." 

"  Doctor  AVaddcl,"  said  Brace,  "  he  couldn't  have  smelt  it  to  save 

his  life.     Call   every  boy  he  says  I   went  to  with  it,  and  not  one  of 

them  will  say  that  he  smelt  it." 


78  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

•  A-  number  of  witnesses  were  called,  and  not  one  testified  that 
lie  pmelt  the  cat.  Most  of  them  had  kept  outjof  smell  of  it;  some 
held  their  noses  j  and  others,  by  whom  it  had  been  whipt,  remem- 
bered nothing  about  it.  , 
"  The  case  is  certainly  wonderfully  changed,"  said  the  Doctor. 
''  Had  a  single  witness  testified  positiyely  that  he  smelt  thft  eat,  I 
would  not  have  held  you  altogether  guiltless,  Brace ;  not  that  I  deny 
your  right- to  shoulder  as  many  dead  eats  as  you  please,  and  to  carry 
them  where  you  please,  prorided  you  do  not  push  yourself,  with 
your  charge,  into  the  company  of  others,  and  to  their  annoyance. 
But  you  have  no  right  to  constrain  a  student  to  leave  his  company, 
.or  his  place,  or  to  endure  a  stench.  As  to  your  pretending  to  want 
help  to  bury  the  cat,  I  understand  all  that  perfectly ;  you  wanted  no 
such  thing." 

"  What  have  you  to  say,  Grilbert  Hay,  against  Brace  ?" 
''  He  threw  a  lightwood  knot  on  my  foot,  on  purpose,  and  hurt  it 
so  that  I  haven't  got  over  it  yet." 
''  Why  did  you  do  that.  Brace  ?" 
"  I  declare.  Dr.  Waddel,  I  didn't  mean  to  drop  h  on  his  foot." 

"  Yes  you  did,  sir " 

"  Address  me,  Gilbert — not  him,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"  Well,  Doctor  Waddel,  he  kept  carrying  his  lightwood  knot 
about  among  the  boys,  and  as  soon  as  he'd  come  near  one,  he'd  pre- 
tend to  let  it  slip  off  hie  shoulder,  and  pretend  to  be  tryiag  to  catch 
it;  and  halloo,  'take  care  oi  your  toes — I  can't  told  it,'  and  let  it 
fall  right  by  the  boy's  foot,  just  to  m»ke  him  jump.  He  did  two  ©r 
three  boys  so,  'fore  he  came  to  me,  and  whea  he  came  to  me,  he  let 
it  fall  on  my  foot,  sure  enough." 
,      "  Is  all  this  so,  Neddy  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  he  shows  himself  I  didn't  go  to  do  it." 
"  No,  sir,  '  you  didn't  go  to  do  it,'  but  you  went  to  do  what  you 
knew  was  very  apt  to  do  it.  So  if  James  Freer,  or  Thomas  Murray, 
had  happened  to  lean  suddenly  forward,  or  been  accidently  pushed 
forward  just  as  you  were  striking  by  their  noses,  he  would  have  got 
a  very  severe  blow  ;  and  you  wouldn't  have  went  to  do  that,  either. 
You  have  no  right  to  sport  with  the  feelings  of  others,  for  your  fan. 
So  I'll  give  you  a  little  for  your  nose-fun,  and  two  or  three  littles  for 
your  foot-fun,  and  the  usual  price  of  idleness  unrepeated." 

Ned  had  a  pair  of  breeches  which  he  called  his  Monday  morning 
breeches.  They  were  very  full  in  the  legs — trousers,  in  fact.  In 
their  natural  position,  they  hung  tangent  to  the  calves  of  his  legs,  or 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  79 

nearly  so ;  but,  by  catohiug-  them  near  the  nips,  and  pulling  them 
backward,  and  a  little  upward,  they  pressed  tight  upon  the  shins, 
and  swung  entirely  clear  of  the  calves,  by  at  least  an  inch.  Ned 
had  acquired  such  skill  in  directing  the  plaj  of  these  trowsers,  that 
he  had  brought  hia  calves  through  several  penal  Mondays  almost,  or 
entirely,  intact.  He  knew  the  velocity  of  the  switch,  and  he  gave 
his  twitch  just  at  the  instant  of  its  reaching  the  Icgj  and  at  the 
crack,  hands  off !  the  pants  were  back  to  their  place. 

Ned  stent  into  the  ring,  and  received  the  first  cut  with  his  usual 
success.  It  was  a  clear  flash.  The  Doctor,  without  pausing,  went 
through  the  motions  of  the  second,  but  arrested  it  in  its  descent,  and 
saw,  with  a  smile,  the  pants  fly  back  to  receive  it.  "  I  thought,"' 
'  said  he.  "  that  lick  made  a  false  report.  IIow  was  that  done,  Ned- 
dy ?  Tou  keep  your  hands  a  little  too  much-akimbo  for  the  occa- 
sion. Hands  off,  and  fair  play,  Neddy  !  Big  breeches  are  perfectly- 
fair ;  but  no  pulling  !"  The  remaining  nine  told  (as  an  officer  said 
of  a  park  of  artillery  in  battle,^  "  with  beautiful  effect !" 

David  Murrai/,  for  throicuij  a  chew  of  tobacco  in  James  Nephew's 
eye  I 

David,  commonly  called  Long  David,  was  the  tallest,  and,  lor  his 
height,  the  slimmest  student  in  the  school.  He  stood  full  six  feet  in 
his  stocking. 

"  How  w.as  that,  David  ?"  said  the  Doetor. 

"  He  asked  me,"  said  David,  "to  throw  him  down  a  chaw  o'  to- 
bacco, and  I  done  it,  and  it  hit  him  in  the  eye." 

'<  Where  were  you,  David  ?     Where  did  you  throw  it  down  from  ?" 

'^  I  wasn't  anywhere,  sir.  Because  I  am  tall,  all  these  little  fellows 
are  constantly  running  up  to  me,  and  askin'  mc  to  throw  'em  down  a 
chaw  o'  tobacco,  jus'  like  I  was  'way  up  in  a  tree." 

"Well,  David,"  said  the  Doctor,  chuckliiig  in  spite  of  himself, 
"  if  a  boy  asks  you  to  throw  him  down  '  a  chaw  o'  tobacco,'  I  don't 
think  you  arc  responsible  for  where  it  falls." 

*'  What  I"  the  reader  may  be  disposed  to  ask,  '-did  he  ever  whip 
grown  up  young  men  ?"  Not  within  oar  recollection,  because  wc 
never  knew  but  one  who  rendered  himself  liable  to  this  kind  of  cgr- 
rection,  and  that  one  left  the  school  in  quick  time  after  the  comniis- 
'sion  of  his  offence  ;  but  tradition  said  that  he  had  done  that  tiling 
and  he  used  to  flourish  his  hickory  with  graceful,  but  terriGc  vigor  of 
arm,  when  a  little  fretted  with  matters  and  things  in  general,  and 
thunder  forth,  "I'll  whip  you,  sirs,  from  Robert  Petiigrcw  down  to 


80  MASTER  WILLIAM    MIITEN. 

James  Scriven,  hicluni^."     The  first  ^7as  tbe  largest,  the  last  the 
smallest  student  in  tke  school. 

A  number  of  other  cases,  besides  those  mentioned,  were  disposed 
of  >  but  there  was  nothing  remarkable  in  them.  They  were  chiefly 
cases  of  idleness  in  which  judgment  was  confessed;  but  the  sessions 
closed  with  a  case  of  contempt  of  court,  which  deserves  to  be  re- 
ported, first,  because  it  is  the  only  case  of  the  kind,  we  believe,  that 
ever  occurred  during  the  instructorship  of  Doctor  Waddel;  and, 
secondljy,  because  it  shows  how  he  disposed  of  cases  which  demanded 
immediate  notice,  but  which  he  could  not  visit  with  the  usual  penalty, 
without  violating  his  fixed  rule,  never  to  flog  in  a  passion.  The 
last  case  oh  docket  was  just  disposed  of,  when  something  that  the 
Doctor  said  or  did,  now  fiargolten,  led  Brace  to  exclaim  pretty  rudely, 
'^Doctor  Waddel.  tlnnt's  imrtial!"  "What,  sir!"  thundered  the  ■ 
Doctor  from  a  hurricane  countenance.  He  paused  a  second—then 
dropt  the  switch  he  had  in  his  hand,  and  seizing  Ned  by  all  the  ap- 
parel that  covered  his  breast,  he  shook  him  tremendously.  He  lifted 
him  high  and  sat  him  down  emphatically,  but  not  injuriously.  He 
now  waltzed  him  round  the  ring  in  the  quickest  possible  time.  He 
then  made  a  path  with  him,  five  fe«t  deep,  through  the  boys — brought 
him  back  with  a  double-jerk — took  anothe;,r  turn  with  him  as  before, 
and  dismissed  him  at  the  door  with  a  push  that  sent  him  off  at  a  "  half 
Jiammo7iJ."  As  soon  as  the  impetus  had  spent  itself,  Ned  stopt, 
looked  back,  looked  up,  looked  around,  like  a  man  in  dclirum  tremms, 
and  then  set  off  at  a  tip-toe,  at  a  nither  brisk  gait,  like  one  creeping 
to  catch  a  butterfly,  and  discoursing,  as  he  went,  in  a  sort  of  half  whis- 
per: ^^Tlie  man's  mad!  The  ma-a-iis  tmul!  He's  made  me  dnmk, 
turning  m-e  round.     If  I  didn't  think  he'd  kill  me,  I'll  never  hudge!" 

The  morning's  exercises  were  exceedingly  interesting  to  Master 
Mitten,  of  course,  and  he  was  allowed  half  a  day  to  muse  upon  them; 
'for  he  was  without  the  text  book  of  his  class,  and  could  not  be  sup- 
plied uttil  Doctor  Waddel  went  home  to  his  dinner.  The  forenoon 
of  the  day  was  employed  chiefly  in  taking  observations  of  the  cos- 
tumes, manners,  and  conduct  of  the  boys;  but  part  of  the  time  was 
spent  with  young  Hay  and^  three  of  his  classmates,  with  whom  he 
studied  during  that  day.  They  construed  alternately  a  sentence 
albud,  and  if  the  version  of  the  reader  was  corrected  by  some  one  of 
the  listeners,  it  was  considered  as  properly  rendered,  anS  adopted  by 
jrll.  Occasionally,  a  dispute  would  arise  between  them  as  to  the  case 
of  a  noun,  the  mood  and  tense, of  a  verb,  or  the  application  of  some 
rule  of  syntax,   and  the  dispute   was  invariably  settled  by  an  appeal 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MIITEX.  81 

to  the  grammar,  which  each  one  kept  always  by  him  in  stiulyiivii;  his 
lessons.  Herein,  ho  found  one  clue  to  a  solution  of  the  mystery 
whicli.had  astonished  liiin  so,  at  the  opening  of  school — the  prodigi- 
ous lessons  which  the  boys  recited — and  before  the  next  day  he  dis- 
covered another  which  solved  the  mystery  entirely  ;  it  was,  that  the 
very  idlest  of  the  bojs  studied  twice  as  nuich  as  any  school-boys  he  . 
had  ever  seen.  In  the  afternoon  his  sclectiv;  was  furnished  him,  and 
he  set  in  regularly  with  his  class,  lie  begged  to  be  excused  i'rom 
reading  in  his  turn,  as  the  author  was  new  to  him.  He  was  indulged; 
and  thus  h^  was  virtually  carried  over  his  first  lesson.  One  reading 
of  it,  to  him,  was  enough  to  make  him  as  j^erfect  in  it  as  any  in  the 
class,  and  consequently  he  recited  it  creditably.  He  had  hardly  con- 
cluded his  first  recitation,  when  the  signal  for  evening  prayer  was* 
given ;  the  students  were  assembled,  prayer  was  lield,  and  they  were 
dismissed  for  the  night.  Thus  ended  the  most  terrific  day  of  Wil- 
liam's pupilage.  We  have  been  particular  in  giving  its  history,  not 
only  for  its  effect  upon  Masto^  Mitten,  but  that  the  reader  might  have 
a  practical  exhibition  of  Doctor  Waddel's  government.  Terrific  as 
the  Jay  was  to  William,  it  was  the  first  of  a  long  series  of  days  preg- 
nant with  good  luck. 

CHAPTER  X. 

1?Y  reason  of  detention  at  the  river,  and  an  accident  to  his  Tchicle 
on  the  w«y,  Captain  Thompson  did  not  roach  home  until  near  eight 
o'clock  on  Monday  night;  and  at  his  request  the  tidings  of  his  return 
were  kept  from  his  sister  until  the  next  morning.  As  soon  as  they 
reached  her,  .she  hastened  over  to  him,  to  hear  his  report  from  Dr. 
Waddel's  school.  "How  did  you  find  things,  brother ?"  said  .she; 
"I  hope  you  got  a  good  boarding-house,  and  a  comfortable  room  for 
William  this  cold  weather;  and  that  before  you  left,  you  . ■'aw  him 
well  provided  with  bedding,  fire-wood,  and  all  the  other  little  conve- 
niences that  he  needs;  for  you  know  he  has  no  idea  of  providing  for 
himself  Did  he  seem  satisfied  with  his  new  Pcho«l  ?  What  sort  of 
a  man  is  Mr.  Waddcl  ?  Is  he.  a,s  severe  a  man  as  he  is  repre.'^ented 
to  her' 

'•  IJless  mc,  Anna  1"  said  the  Captdn.  "What  time  liavc  I  had 
to  pieparc  answers  for  all  these  questions?  I  got  there  at  four 
o'idock  on  Saturday  afternoon .  and  left  a  little  after  sunrise  on  Sun- 
day, so  tliHt  I  had  no  time  to  learn  much  about  Mr.  Waddel  or  his 
sclioolf     Oh,    Anna,  who  do  youUhink  was  the  first  boy  I  got  ac- 


82  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEX. 

quainted  with  there  !  David  Rainsay,  son  of  Doctor  Kamsay,  who 
married  Miss  Lauiens,  daughter  of  Henry  Laurens,  President  of  the 
first  Congress,  and  Minister  to  Holland,  fle  seemed  to  be  very  well 
satisfied  there — quite  cheerful  and  happy — fine  boy." 

"  Couldn't  you  have  got  William  into  a  room  with  him  ?" 

'•  Well— I  didn't  try— he  boards  with  Mr.  Waddel,  and  I 
thought "   • 

"  Oh  !  brother  !  I  wish  you  had  placed  him  with  young  Ramsay, 
immediately  under  Mr.  Waddel's  eye.  I  should  have  no  fears,  then, 
of  his  getting  into  bad  habits." 

"  Well,  he  can  board  there  yet,  if  ho  wishes  to,  for  I  only  paid  his 
board  at  Mr.  Newby's  for  one  quarter,  and  I  told  him  to  visit  the 
, other  boarding  houses  and  select  the  one  he  liked  best,  and  I  would 
place  him  at  it.  I  am  determined  to  ^lake  him  just  as  comfortable 
and  happy  as  I  caii,  at  Mr.  Waddel's.  His  room-mate  is  a  son  of 
our  old  friend,  Di.  Hay,  of  Washington — nice  youth — fine  school, 
I've  no  doubt— one  hundred  and  fifty  scholars !  Industrious,  hearty 
looking  fellows,  of  all  sizes  !  Willington  is  the  finest  town  in  the 
world,  for  boys.  Anna,  I'm  a  little  pressed  with  business  ttis  moxn- 
ing ;  come  over  another  time,  and  we  will  talk  the  matter  over  more 
leisurely."     3»  saying,  he  retired. 

''  Sister  Mary,"  said  Mrs.  Mitten  to  Mrs.  Thompson,  '-did  brother 
David  give  you  any  of  the  particulars  of  his  trip  to  M;-.  Waddel's? 
Did  he  tell  you  how  William  liked  the  school  and  his  teacher  ?'' 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  T. ;  "I  asked  him  how  Wilham  liked  tl^e  school, 
and  he  said  he  hadn't  seen  the  school,  when  he  came  away.  I  asked 
him  how  he  liked  Mr.  Waddel,  pud  he  said  William  thought  Mr. 
Waddel  a  very  grum  looMng  man  ;  but  that  he  had  had  no  opportunity 
of  getting  acquainted  with  him  before  he  loft.  But  he  (Mr.  Thomp- 
son,) said  that  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  man  and  the  place  were 
made  for  William — that  Willington  was  the  most  quiet,  peaceful  little 
village  he  ever  saw;  in  a  healthy  region,  with  delightful  water, 
beautiful  study-grounds — industrious,  hard-working,  orderly  boys, 
&G.,  &c." 

''  Sister  Mary,  you  may  depend  upon  it,  brother  David  was  disap- 
pointed in  the  school,  or  William  is  dissatisfied  with  it,  or  both  are 
dissatisfied  with  the  teacher,  or  the  board,  or  sometLing  else,  or  he 
would  not  put  us  off"  Avith  these  general  remarks.  As  sure  as  you're 
born,  there  is  something  there  that  he  knows  will  not  please  me.  If 
all  had  been  to  his  liking  and  mine,  he  wouldn't  have  waited  for 
questions  from  me,  knowing  my  solicitude  about  the  boy.     He  .would 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  83 

have  i^poJt-en  in  raptures  about  every tliiug.  How  agreeably  disap- 
pointed William  had  beeu — what  a  charming  fiimiiy,  and  "what  com- 
fortable quarters  he  had  got  in— what  an  accomplished,  agreeable, 
fascinating  man  Mr.  "Waddel  is,  &c.,  &c.  What  is  the  use  of  his 
trying  to  conceal  these  things  from  nio'?  As  soon  as  I  get  a  letter 
from  William,  he  will  tell  mo  all  about  them,  and  brother  David  had 
as  well  let  me  know  about  them  at  once." 

"  No,  sister  Anna,  he  cannot  be  dissatisfied  with  the  teacher  or  the 
school,  as  is  plain  from  what  he  has  said  to  both  of  us.  I  reckon 
the  living  is  rather  rough  up  there,  for  he  said  it  was  the  cheapest 
board  that  he  ever  paid.  Just  think  oi"  it,  sister  Anna;  ten  dollars 
a  month  for  board,  washing,  lodging,  and  firewood !  The  kindest 
man  in  the  world  couldn't  supply  boys  with  dainties  at  these  rates. 
And  all  this  without  making  any  allowance  for  damage  to  room,  fur- 
niture, bedsteads,  bedding,  breaking  window  glasses,  plastering,  and 
the  like,  which  is  sure  to  occur  ir  students'  rooms ;  tor  boys  are 
certain  to  get  into  romps  and  frolics  at  times,  and  then  everything 
flies  before  them.  Now,  I  reckon  husband  found  the  boys'  fare  very 
plain  at  Mr.  Newby's,  and  thought,  maybe,  that  it  would  distress  you 
to  know  this  fi?ct,  as  William  has  never  beeu  used  to  such  living. 
As  for  accomplished,  agreeable,  fascinating  school-masters " 

"  Well,  sister  Mai-y,  it  may  be  soj  1  hope  it  is  no  worse.  Learn 
all  you  can  about  the  school  from  brother  David,  and  report  to  me. 
Good  morning !" 

Mrs.  Mitten  went  home,  and  immediately  addressed  to  her  son  a 
letter,  wherein,  aiiiong  other  things,  ?he  said  ''  As  yet,  I  have  learned 
but  very  little  about  the  school  or  your  teacher  Irom  your  uncle;  but 
as  he  seemed  to  think  it  promises  every  thing  good  to  you,  I  ouf>ht  to 
be  satisfied.  I  have  always  been  under  the  impression  that  Mr.  Wad- 
del's  school  was  in  the  woods,  but  your  uncle  informs  us  that  it  is  in 
the  lovely,  quiet  little  village  of  Willington.  I  have  looked  for  it  on 
the  map  of  South  Carolina,  but  .  cannot  find  it  put  down  there. 
Now,  I  charge  you.  my  dear  boy,  not  to  be  running  about  the  streets 
of  nights,   to  the  di.?turbance  of  the  villagers.     You  are  now,  thank 

Heaven !  away  from  the  G boys,  and  I  hope  you  ne^  cr  will 

again  fall  into  suck  company.  I  am  happy  to  learn  that  you  have 
had  the  go»d  fortune  to  become  the  room-mate  of  Dr.  Hay's  son.  It 
is  a  long  time  since  we  had  the  pleafcure  of  the  Doctor's  .society,  but 
we  nevef  can  forget  it,  and  we  take  it  for  granted  that  the  sou  of  such 
a  man  must  be  all  that  a  son  should  be.  Rut  even  the  best  boys  will 
occasionally  haye  their  romps  and  frolics,  and  then  they  arc  very  apt 


84  MASTKR    WILLIAM   MITl'EN. 

forget  their  duty  to  their  hostess.  I  do  not  forbid  you  these  little 
pastimes ;  hut  I  strictly  evjoin  it  upon  you,  if  they  occur  in  your 
room,  and  any  injury  results  to  bed,  bedding,  bureau,  table,  wash- 
stand,  basin,  pitcher,  looking-glass,  -window-glass,  or  any  thing  else,  to 
go  immediately  to  Mr.  Newby^^and  insist  upon  his  charging  the  whole 
damage  to  yon,  assuring  him  that  I  will  j)ay  it  promptly  and  cheer- 
fully. ^0  cheap  is  the  board,  that  I  know  he  cannot  afford  to  bear 
tJje  expense  of  breakage. 

"  There  is  another  thing  upon  wliich  I  would  repeat  a  caution  al- 
ready given  you;  you  will  often  be  applied  to,  as  you  have  been,  to 
carry  some  of  your  lets  gifted  schoolmates  over  their  lessons.  Do 
these  little  kindnesses  for  them  cheerfully,  and  for  the  honor  of  your 
name,  do  not  think  of  charging  or  receiving  anything  for  them. 
Study  neatuess  and  cleanliness  of  person.  Before  you  left  nie,  I  told 
you  to  change  your  liuen  every  day,  but  as  the  number  of  your  shirts 
were  reduced  at  your  departure,  and  more  especially  in  mercy  to 
Jlrs.  Newby's  wash-woman,  and  her  mistress,  I  will  revoke  that  order, 
and  say  to  you,  change  only  three  times  a  week.  Eat  icJuit  in  set  he- 
fore  yoUi  ashiiH)  no  questions." 

Mrs.  Mitten  added  a.  great  many  other  wise  and  pious  counsels, 
but  as  they  would  be  of  but  little  interest  to  the  reader,  we  suppress 
them.  She  concluded  her  letter,  folded  it,  addressed  it  to  "  Master 
'William  Mitt,-n,  Willingtou,  Abbeville  District,  South  Carolina," 
and  sent  it  to  the  post  office.  As  there  was  no  post  oiBee  at  that  time 
in  Willingtou,  the  letter  went  to  Abbeville  Court  House,  where  it  re- 
mained three  weeks  from  its  date  before  it  was  called  for.  At  the 
end  of  that  time  it  was  reported  to  Dr.  Waddel,  who  toak  it  from  tke 
office,  and  the  same  day  delivered  it  to  William. 

Three  days  passed  away  before  Captain  Th(;)mpson  found  it  con- 
venient to  give  his  sister  a  ci^cum,stantial  detail  of  matters  and  things 
at  Willingtou ;  and  on  the  fourth  he  .'■et  out  for  Augusta  on  business 
of  importance.  As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Mrs.  Mitten  called  on  his 
wife. 

"Sister  Mary,"  said  she.  "have  you  picked  up  anything  from 
brother  David  about  Willingtou  ?" 

"  Not  a  word,  sister  Ann.  He's  always  too  busy,  or  too  sleepy,  to 
talk  upon  this  subject.  Whenever  I  ^jring  it  up,  like  old  Jenkins  in 
the  Vicar  of  W^akefield,  with  his  one  sentence  of  learning,  he  begins 
to  run  on  about  young  Ramsey,  aa  he  did  to  you,  but  with  this  dif^ 
ference  :  that  he  was  serious  when  he  delivered  his  harangue  to  you^ 
and  he  chuckles  every  time  he  repeats  it — or  begins  to  repeat  it — to> 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  85- 

me.  I  believe  you  are  right,  sister  Anna;  there  is  something  aboni 
Mr.  Waddcl's  school  which  he  doesn't  wish  us  to  know ;  and  as  for  my 
part,  he  may  keep  it  to  himself  till  doomsday,  lor  anght  I  care;  I 
shall  ask  him  uo  more  about  it."  • 

''  Well,  sister  Mary,  he  can't  keep  us  long  in  suspense,  for  I  have 
written  to  William,  and  I  shall  get  a  letter  iVom  him  in  a  week  or  so 
that  will  explain  everything." 

At  Augusta  chance  threw  Captain  Thompson  and  Thomas  M. 
Gilmer  in  the  same  room  of  a  public  house,  for  two  nights.  They 
were  n)ade  acquainted,  and  among  various  other  topics  rf  conversa- 
tion. Doctor  Waddcl's  school  came  upon  the  tapis.  "  That  jgjihool," 
said  Mr.  Gilmer,  "just  fills  my  notion  of  what  a  boy's  school  ought 
to  be.  Plain  dressing,  plain  eating,  hard  working,  close  studying, 
close  watching — and,  when  needful,  good  whipping." 

"  You  are  well  acquainted  with  the  school,  then." 

*'  Well,  not  so  much  from  my  own  observation  as  from  what  my 
boys  and  my  neighbors'  boys  tell  me;  for  I'm  so  clumsj',  as  you  sec, 
that  I  go  no  where  but  whore  I'm  obliged  to;  but  every  body  says 
the  same  thing  about  the  school — that  it  is  the  best  school  in  the 
United  States." 

"  Mr.  Waddel  is  said  to  be  very  severe  with  his  pupils." 

''I  reckon  not.  No  doubt,  if  they  don't  walk  straight  he  gives 
them  the  timber,  as  he  ought  to  do ;  but  all  his  scholars  that  I  know 
like  him  very  much,  and  they  seem  to  consider  all  other  schools  as 
very  small  affairs,  compared  with  his." 

Captain  Thonipson^ter  making  a^sufficient  apology  for  his  in- 
quisitiveness,  fished  out  of  Mr.  Gilmer  that  Governor  Mathews  had 
three  or  four  grandsons  at  Doctor  Waddcl's.  That  Senator  Bibb  had 
two  brothers-in-law  there — that  Congressman  Early  had  a  bruther 
there — that  Judge  Tait  had  a  son  there.  That  Congressman  Meri- 
wether (David)  had  a  son  there.  And  before  the  Captain  left  Au- 
gusta, he  learned  that  Senator,  Governor  Milledge  had  a  nephew 
there.  And  last,  (and  best  known  of  all,  among  men,*  women,  and 
children,  throughout  the  State,)  that  William  J.*  HoWby  had  a  son 
there.  This  gentleman  was  the  Editor  of  the  Augusta  Herald,  and 
in  the  use  of  all  the  implements  of  editorial  warfare  unsurpa-ssed  by 
any  journalist  of  his  day.  A  story  was  current  about  this  time,  that 
a  lady,  expressing  a  wish  to  a  female  friend  to  have  her  infant  daugh- 
ter bear  the  greatest  name  in  the  world — "  name  her,"  said  the 
friend,  "  William  ./.  JIubby."  Should  the  reader  be  disposed  to 
enquire  how  Mr.  Gilmer  came  to  know  so  many  of  the  grandee  pa- 


86  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

trons  of  Dr.  Waddel's  school,  we  answer,  that  he  was  connected  by 
blood,  or  marriage,  with  all  but  two  of  them;  and  one  of  the  two 
lived  in  the  same  county  with  him,  was  as  intimate  with  him  as  a 
connection,  and  had  rescued  his  son  George  and  other  boys  of  this 
very  school  from  a  falling  house  under  which  they  had  takea%helter 
in  a  storm;  and  the  other  resided  in  an  adjoining  county,  and  was 
well  known  to  him,  and  a  Judge  of  the  circuit  which  embraced  his 
county. 

The  Captain,  fully  charged  with  these  woman-cooling  facts,  wend- 
ed his  way  homeward  in  high  spirits.  His  exultation  was  increased 
upon  reaching  home  by  finding  a  letter  waiting  him,  from  Doctor 
Waddel,         '    ' 

As  soon  as  he  had  reached  his  dwelling,  and  had  taken  refresh- 
ment— "  come,"  said  he,  "  Mary,  let's  go  over  to  Anna's,  and  have  our 
too  long  postponed  conference  about  Mr.  Waddel's." 

"  If  you  are  going  to  talk  seriously  to  your  sister,  to  relieve  her 
from  her  anxiety  about  her  child,  I'll  go  with  you;  but  if  you  are 
going  to  run  on  with  all  that  stuff  about  the  whch  breed  of  Ramsays, 
who  seem  to  have  turned  your  bead,  I  will  not  go  one  foot." 

"  Wei],  I  am  going  to  be  serious,  and  to  give  Anna  a  full  state- 
ment of  things  at^Mr.  Waddel's  as  they  are.  I  know  it  will  distress 
her,  and  I  want  you   to  help  rae  reconcile  her  to  them." 

They  went,  and  after  the  usual  salutations,  the  Captain  began: 
"  Well,  Anna,  I  have  come  over  to  tell  you  fully  how  matters  stand 
at  Mr.  Waddel's.  My  reason  for  postponing  the  disclosure  was, 
that  I  was  in  hopes  of  recei^ng  a  letter  from  Mr.  Waddel  that  would 
help  to  reconcile  you  to  the  state  of  things  at  Willington.  So  brief 
was  ray  stay  at  that  place,  that  I  really  learned  but  little  of  the  par- 
ticulars in  which  you  are  most  interested ;  but  I  saw  enough  to  sa- 
tisfy me,  that  to  all  who  would  have  their  sons  removed  from  vice, 
well  instructed,  invigorated  in  mind  and  body,  and  early  taught  self- 
reliance,  there  was  no  better  school  than  this.  But  all  things  about 
it  are  of  the  very  cheapest,  plainest,  and  roughest  kind.  Therejs  one 
framed  house  in*  Willington,  and  that  is  the  head  teacher's;  all  the 
rest  are  of  logs,  and  open  at  that."  (Mrs.  M.  turned  pale.)  "  Wil- 
liam's study  and  bed  room  are  of  this  kind.  He  occupies  it  with 
young  Hay  and  two  others.  Its  only  furniture  is  two  mattresses, 
(on  the  floor,)  a  table,  and  four  split  bottomed  chairs.  The  boys  cut 
and  haul  their  own  wood  and  make  their  own  fires."  (Mrs.  T.  turns 
pale.)  "  The  fare  is  very  plain — necessai'ily  so,  from  the  price  of 
board.     Mr.  Waddel  is  a  very  rigid  disciplinarian/'  (they  both  turn 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  87 

paler,)  "  but  not  tyrannical.  His  government  is  strictly  equitable. 
Among  all  the  boys  that  I  saw  at  Newby's  and  Waddel's,  I  did  not 
see  one  who  was  as  well  dressed  as  your  Tom.  Evert  Doctor  Ram — 
however,  we'll  pass  him  over.  This  is  as  it  should  be.  Boys  who 
cut  wood  and  carry  lightwood  knots  have  no  use  for  fine  clothes- 
I  need  hardly  tell  you  that  your  boy,  among  them,  looks  like  a  bird 
of  Paradise  among  so  many  crows.  I  wish  you  had  taken  my  advice 
in  laying  in  his  wardrobe,  for  I  am  sure  his  finery  will  bring  upon 
him  the  taunts  of  his  school-fellows.  And  now  I  have  told  you  the 
worst — the  very  worst.  Jjut  I  have  something  to  brighten  this  pic- 
ture a  little.     And  first,  read  this  letter  from  Mr.  Waddel."" 

"  You  read  it,  brother,"  said  Mrs.  Mitten,  with  swimming  ^es 
and  tremulous  voice. 

The  Captain  reads  : 

"  WiLLINGTON,   &c.,   &c. 

"  Deal'  Sir :  On  taking  leave  of  me,  you  requested  me  to  give 
you  early  information  of  the  standing,  conduct,  and  progress  of  your 
nephew ;  and,  as  my  letter  will  reach  you  through  the  kindness  of 
Mr.  Jones,  the  bearer,  nearly  or  quite  a  week  sooner  than  it  would 
by  regular — or  rather  irrcrjular — course  of  mail,  I  avail  myself 
of  the  opportunity  to  comply  with  your  request.  William  has  been' 
under  my  instruction  just  a  week  to-day;  and  though  I  would  not 
venture  confident  predictions  of  him,  upon  so  short  an  acquaintance, 
I  will  give  you  my  present  estimate  of  him,  for  what  it  is  worth.  If 
I  am  not  grossly  deceived  in  him,  he  is  destined  to  a  most  brilliant 
future.  He  was  a  little  rusty  in  the  principles  of  construction  at 
first — no,  in  the  application  of  them — for  of  the  principles  them- 
Belves,  he  is  master,  and  he  improves  in  the  application  of  them 
with  every  lesson.  His  class  was  a  week  ahead  of  him  in  the  Greek 
grammar,  when  he  entered  it.  He  has  already  made  up  the  defi- 
ciency, and  now  stand.!  fully  equal  to  the  best  in  his  class  in  this 
study — indeed,  in  all  their  studies.  He  is  moral,  orderly,  and  stu- 
dious, and  if  he  will  only  do  half  as  much  for  himself  as  nature  has 
done  for  him,  he  will  be  the  pride  of  his  kindred  and  the  boast  of 
his  country.  You  will  not  be  much  more  delighted  at  receiving  this 
intelligence,  than  I  am  in  communicating  it. 
"  Yours  \(iry  respectfully, 

MosE.s  Waddel." 

"  There,"  said  the  Captain,  bouncing  up  in  transports  and  throw 
ing  the  letter  in  his  sister's  lap,  "  there,  sis,  what  do  you  think  at 
that  ?     Now,  as  you  arc  a  good  christian,  play  Methodist  for  one 


88  MASTER    WILLIAM  MITTBN, 

time,  and  go  to  shouting,  I  begin  to  believe  In  sbouting,  if  religion 
is  what  it  is  cracked  up  to  be." 

•'  Brother,"  said  she,  "  I  am  just  as  happy  as  a  mother  can  be  at 
such  tidings  ;  but  what  do  they  signify,  when  uiy  poor  child  may  be 
brought  home  to  me  in  less  than  a  month,  a  corpse  ?  William's  con- 
stitution can  never  stand  the  hardships  to  which  he  is  exposed.  A 
hard  mattress  on  tfie  floor,  in  an  open  hut,  this  bitter  cold  weath- 
er !  Cutting  wood  ! — the  boy  never  raised  an  axe  in  his  life — 
carrying  lightwood  knots  !  He  never  brought  a  turn  of  wood  in  the 
house  in  his  life.  Taunted  by  rude  schoftl-mates  for  being  decently 
dressed  !     I^Iy  child  is  worse  off"  than  my  negroes." 

"  Don't  you  suppode  there  are  fifty  in  that  school  who  have  been 
brought  up  as  tenderly  as  your  boy  has?" 

"  No,  I  do  not.  Thej  are  all  poor  boys  and  country  boys  who  have 
been  brought  up  to  hard  work.  I  may  have  erred  in  bringing  him 
up  so  daintily ;  but  it  is  done,  and  he  is  now  unable  to  bear  hard 
usage." 

"  Do  YOU  reckon  General  Senator  Governor  Mathew's  grand-child- 
ren are  poor  boys? — that  the  Honorable  Peter  Early's  brother  is  a 
poor  boy  ? — that  Senator  Merriwether'e  son  is  a  poor  boy  ? — that 
Senator  Bibb's  brothers-in-law  are  poor  bo3'S  ? — that  Judge  Tait's 
BOO  is  a  poor  boy  ?     Is  young  Hay  a  poor  boy  ?", 

"  How  do  you  know  that  all  these  mea  have  sons  there  ?" 

"  I  learned  it  from  a  bigger  man  than  any  of  them,  who  is  kip 
to  them,  and  knows  all  about  them,  and  their  sons." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  all  their  sons  w«re  raised  in  the  country  and 
raised  to  work." 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  Senator  Governor  Milledge's  nephew  was 
raised  in  the  country  and  to  work  ?  That  William  J.  Hobby's  son 
was  raised  in  the  country,  and  to  work  ? — that  Doctor  Bamsay's  son 
was  raised  in  the  country  and  to  work  ?  It  is  high  time  your  dainty, 
cake-fed  boy  was  set  to  work,  if  you  expect  him  to  live  out  half  his 
days.  And  when  a  better  time  than  now  ?  or  where  a  better  place 
than  among  his  school-mates  of  rank,  who  all  work  ?" 

''He  is  under  your  control,  brother,"  said  Mrs.  Mitten,  burying 
her  face  in  her  handkerchief;  "but  surely,  surely,  he  is  the  most 
unfortunate  child  that  evir  was  "'Or  i  " 

"  Yes,  he  is  <)ne  of  the  most  unfortunate  children  ever  born,  in 
having  a  mother  whose  sympathy  lor  his  budy  makes  her  forget  the 
interest  of  his  soul — who  to  save  his  hide,  will  ruin  his  head — How- 
ever, what's  the  use  of  talking  to  a  woman." 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTKN.  89 

"Husband,"  said  Mrs.  Thompson,  ^'youdon't  know  how  to  make 
the  proper  allowances  for  a  mother's  lovo.  I've  told  you  so  a  hund- 
red times.  That  is  your  greatest  fault — almost  your  only  fault — 
that,  and  refusing  your  children  little  innocent  indulgences  that 
every  other  father  allows  to  his  children.  I  have  been  mortified  to 
death  to  see  my  children  along  side  of  their  cousins.  Because  men 
have  no  feelings  .themselves,  they  think  women  have  none — or  ought 
to  have  none — " 

"  Ph-e-e-e-ew  !  what  a  gust!  what  did  you  come  over  for,  Mrs. 
Bildad  V 

"  I  came  over  to  comfort  sister  Anna,  who  has  most  as  much  to 
bear  as  Job  had." 

"I  don't  think  Sarah  suffi^.much  by  comparison  with  Ann  and 
Jane — at  least  if  you'd  look  at  one  of  Sanford's  bills  you'd  think 
she  ought  not  to." 

'*  Well,  I  manage  to  keep  her  a  little  decent  by  enduring  a  month's 
grumbling  at  the  end  of  every  year;  but  compare  George  and  Wil- 
liam will  you.  Till  last  year  and  the  year  before,  "when  did  he  ever 
have  a  new  coat — a  decent  one — to  his  back  ?  I've  been  cutting 
down  your  old  coats  and  pants  for  him  ever  since  he  was  born " 

"  He  must  have  gone  into  pants  early." 

"That's  very  witty,  I  confess;  but  you  kflow  that  every  word  I 
say  is  true.  \Vhat  pleasure  it  can  be  to  any  one  to  be  always  morti- 
fying and  cowing  their  children,  I  can't  conceive.  You'fc  always 
talking  about  making  boys  u-ork,  twor/^,  and  giving  'em  fine  constitu- 
tions, and  George  has  done  no  more  work  than  William  has,  and  his 
constitution's  no  better.  Now,  husband,  what  will  the  world  say  to 
see  you  sending  off  your  sister's  child  into  slavery,  and  keeping  your 
own  son  at  home,  with  all  the  comforts  of  life  about  him  V 

"  I  thought  he  was  in  a  dreadful  pickle  at  home." 

"  Well,  so  far  as  his  feelings — his  sensibilities  arc  concerned  he 
is  ;  but  he's  not  a  meaq-fed,  mean-elothcd,  ridiculed  slave  ;  he's  not 
tumbled  down  on  a  hard  mattress,  on  the  bare  floor,  in  a  negro 
house,  this  pinching,  freezing  weather.  I  wouldn't  expose  George 
to  such  hardships  and  insults,  if  he  never  got  an  education  during 
ash  and  oak." 

"  I  think  that  very  likely." 

"Surely,  upon  the  face  of  the  whole  earth  there  can  be  found 
some  school  as  good  as  old  Waddcl's  where  boys  can  be  taught  with- 
out being  made  niggers  of." 

"  Mr.  W^addel  is  not  old,  precious ;  and  it  would  distress  him 
mightily  if  he  knew  that  you  didn't  like  his  school." 


90  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

*'  I  don't  care  whether  he's  old  or  young,  nor  what  he  likes  or  dis- 
likes. One  thing  is  certain,  and  that  is  that  G-eorge  never  goes  to 
him with  my  consent." 

"  Well,  come  darling,  let's  go  home  !  you  have  comforted  Anna 
more  in  a  few  minutes  than  I  could  have  done  in  a  month ;  for  you 
have  dried  up  her  tears  and  actually  drawn  two  or  three  smiles  from 
her.  My  purpose  is  fully  answered.  Old  as  I  am,  I  never  knew 
how  to  comfort  women  before." 

"Brother,  I  thought  you  said  Willington  was  a  village  !" 

"  So  it  is,  but  nobody  lives  in  it  but  students  and  one  tavern- 
keeper." 

"  I  seni  my  letter  there." 

"  Well,  maybe  it  will  go  there.  You  should  have  sent  it  to  Vi- 
enna.    Come,  sweetest,  let's  be  going  !" 

"  Go  on,  sweetest;  and  I'll  come  when  I'm  ready." 

CHAPTER  XL 

Few  men  living,  have  a  higher  respect  for  the  "  American  fair" 
than  we  have.  We  regard  them  as  a  thousand  times  better  than 
men,  and  do  not  feel  that  we  pay  them  a  very  extravagant  compli- 
ment at  that.  Nor  are  we  blind  to  the  virtues  of  the  men.  There 
are  many  splendid  specimens  of  humanity  among  them ;  but,  as  a 
class  the;f  do  not  equal  the  other  sex  in  any  thing,  that  tends  to  en- 
noble the  human  race.  As  good  as  women  are,  they  would  be  bet- 
ter still,  if  it  were  not  for  the  men  ;  and  yet,  with  this  confession 
on  our  lips,  we  are  constrained  to  say  that  after  all,  woman  is  a  very 
curious  thing.  In  proof  of  this  assertion,  "  let  facts  be  submitted 
to  a  candid  world  !" 

The  reader  has  seen  with  what  spirit  and  dignity  Mrs.  Thompson 
reduced  her  husband  to  order  as  soon  as  he  began  to  cast  reflections 
upon  women  generally — how  he  opened  a  whole  volume  of  family  se- 
crets, that  the  world  would  have  never  known  but  for  his  over-latu- 
dinarian  outgivings — with  what  independence  she  spoke  of  *'  old 
W^addel,"  and  his  "  likes  and  dislikes  " — how  sweetly  she  dismissed 
her  husband — and  how  his  sister  was  comforted  by  all  these  things. 
Now,  after  the  Captain  had  retired,  and  the  two  ladies  were  left 
alone,  what  think  you,  gentle  reader,  was  the  strain  in  which  she 
continued  to  her  husband's  sister?  Why,  of  course  :  "  Sister,  you 
are  to  patient — too  weak — too  submissive.  Be  independent.  Ifwe^ 
don't  show  some  spirit  men  will  make  slaves  of  us.     Resume  your 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  91 

authority  over  your  child,  and  take  him  awaj'  from  that  horrible 
luonster,  old  Waddel,  and  his  one  hundred  and  fifty  white  slaves." 
You  are  mistaken,  kind  reader.  After  a  pause,  long  enough  to  let 
the  Captain  get  out  of  hearing,  thus  it  ran  : 

"  Sister,  that  is  a  sweet  letter  of  Mr.  Waddel's.  How  kind  it 
was  in  him  to  write  so  soon.  However  severe  he  may  be,  my  life 
on  it,  he  is  a  kind  man  at  heart,  and  takes  great  pleasure  in  seeing 
the  advancement  of  his  scholars.  It  is  very  hard  for  a  child  raised 
as  William  has  been,  to  be  exposed  to  such  rough  usage  ;  but,  after 
all  it  may  turn  out  for  the  best.  Every  day  that  I  live  I  become 
more  and  more  satisfied,  that  after  a  certain  age  boys  should  be  sub- 
jected entirely  to  a  father's  government.  As  you  knew,  husband  and 
I  have  bad  many  disputes  about  the  proper  management  of  George, 
and  I  have  always  found  that  in  the  end  he  was  right  and  I  was 
wrong.  We  arc  too  apt  to  let  our  love  get  the  better  of  our  judg- 
ment in  the  management  of  our  children,  especMly  our  sons.  I 
reckon  it  is  a  wise  arrangement  of  Providence,  that  men  should  not 
have  much  love  and  sympathy — that  is,  as  much  as  we  have — that 
they  may  not  be  led  oflf  by  their  afi"eetions  into  too  much  indulgence. 
So  much  better  satisfied  am  I  with  David's  judgment,  than  I  am 
with  mine,  in  ruling  boys,  that  I  don't  pretend  to  oppose  him  in 
any  thing  concerning  them,  except  in  the  little  matter  of  dress;  and 
besides  you  know  him  well  enough  to  know  that  when  he  once  sets 
his  head  upon  a  thincr,  and  puts  his  foot  down,  you'd  just  as  well 
undertake  to  turn  over  the  Court  House  with  your  little  finger,  as  to 
move  him.  Now,  I  see  he  has  made  up  his  mind  to  keep  William 
at  Waddel's,  and  nowhere  but  Waddel's,  and  be  is  the  more  bent 
upon  it,  because  he  wants  him  to  contend  with  those — what  was 
that  biggest  man  of  all,  that  told  him  so  much  about  Governor's, 
and  Senators,  and  Judges,  and  aW  that  ?" 

"  Gilmer  ?" 

•'1  never  beard  of  him;  did  you?' 

"  No." 

"  Well,  it's  very  strange  that  we  never  heard  of  him — we've  heard 
of  all  the  rest  of  them.  But  as  I  was  saying  :  David  thinks  there 
never  was  such  a  boy  born  for  mind  as  William.  I  tell  him  J  think 
George  has  quite  as  good  a  mind  as  William — not^uch  a  sprightly 
mind,  but  more  solid.     Don't  you  think  so,  sister '!" 

"  George  is  a  sweet,  good  boy,  sister;  a  boy  to  be  proud  of,  and 
of  fine  mind.  I've  no  doubt  but  that  he  will  make  a  more  solid, 
practical,  useful  man  than  William  ;  but " 


92  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

^'  Well,  I've  4old  ray  husband  so  ;  but  he  says  as  for  talent,  for 
genuine,  native  rnleiit,  George  won't  do  to  be  named  in  the  same  year 
with  William.  And  that's  another  very  strange  thing  in  men ; 
have  you  never  noticed  it?  They  always  think  every  body  else's 
children  smarter  and  better  than  their  own.  What  was  I  saying  ? 
Oh — David's  head  is  set  upon  showing  off  William  to  those  great 
folks,  in  that  large  school,  and  have  his  way  he  \cill;  so  I  think,  my 
dear  Anna,  you'd  best  try  to  reconcile  yourself  to  it.  Don't  let  it 
distress  you.  Surely,  if  other  people's  children,  raised  as  tenderly 
as  he  has  been,  can  live  through  it,  he  can," 

'*  Oh,  I  could  bear  it  all  with  becoming  fortitude,  my  dear  sister, 
if  I  could  be  sure  that  William  would  live  through  it — that  his  con- 
stitution would  not  be  undermined  by  it.  But  the  change  is  so  sud- 
den— in  everything !  If  he  lives  through  it,  his  spirit  will  be 
broken  down — he  will  be  cowed — his  ambition  bo  stifled.  I  know 
William's  disposition  better  than  any  body  else  in  the  worl(^  knows 
it.  He  can  be  led  by  kindness,  stimulated  by  praise,  and  won  by 
words,  but  he  cannot  bear  harshness,  censure,  and,  least  of  all,  chas- 
tisement. Now,  is  it  not  strange,  my  dear  Mary — is  it  not  unac- 
countable, that  of  all  the  schools  in  the  world  that  is  the  one  my 
poor  child  should  be  doomed  to  at  last  ?  When,  and  where,  will  his 
misfortunes  end?  And  now,  what  shall  I  do?  What  am  I  to  do  ? 
I  have  given  my  child  up  to  brother  David's  control,  and  I  know  his 
inflexibility  where  he  thinks  he  is  right.  There  is  one  thing  I  know, 
and  but  one  thing,,  that  will  overcome,  him,  and  that  is  my  grief; 
but  I  do  not  wish  to  afflict  him  with  my  anguish  of  heart.  .  What 
trouble  have  I  given  him  !  What  brotherly  kindness  has  he  shown 
me  !  How  prophetic  has  been  his  forecast !  How  proud  he  is  of 
my  son  !  How  rojoioed  when  he  does  well !  It  is  cruel  in  mc  to 
pain  him.  And  yet,  when  I  think  of  my  poor  boy,  how  can  I  help 
it?  'Yes,  I  will,  sister  Mary — I  will  strive  to  suppress  my  fedlings; 
at  least,  to  hide  them  from  brother  David.  I  am  greatly  delighted 
with  Mr.  Waddel's  letter,  I  ara  sure  he  is  not  the  eruel,  merciless 
man  he  has  been  represented  to  bo." 

"  Well  that  is  right,  sister  Anna,  You  be  happy,  and  huskand 
will  be  happy,  and  I  will  be  happy,  and  we'll  all  be  happy.  At 
least,  hope  for  the  best,  till  you  hear  from  William.  It  will  be  time 
enough  to  grieve  when  you  hear  that  William  is  unhappy."  With 
these  words,  and  two  emphatic  kisses,  moistened  with  the  tears  of 
both,  the  sisters  parted. 

Now,  we  could  moralize  as  long,  and  quite  as  profitably,  upon  the 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  93 

character  of  Mra.  Thompson,  as  Dickens  does  upon  the  characters 
which  he  dreams  out;  but  as  we  detest  the  repeated  interruptions, 
of  a  story  by  long  dry  homilies  from  the  author,  we  will  take  it  for 
granted  that  when  wc  faithfully  delineate  a  character,  the  reader 
can  draw  his  lessons  of  morality  from  it  as  well  as  we  can  ;  but  as  it 
would  be  doing  great  injustice  to  the  character  of  Mrs.  Thompson  to 
rest  it  with  the  reader  upon  an  occasional  interview  with  her  nearest 
and  dearest  friends,  we  are  sure  that  wo  will  be  indulged  in  a  word 
explanatory  of  her  seeming  inconsistency  in  the  conversations  just 
detailed. 

After  long  and  careful  observation  of  human  nature,  iu  all  its 
phases,  we  are  strongly  impressed  with  the  idea  that  there  are  many 
women  in  the  world — good  women,  sensible  women,  goo(f  wives,  and 
good  mothers,  who  arc  a  little  i%2^ul.'<ivc — liable,  under  very  trying 
circumstances,  such  as  masculine  wit  at  fcniino  expense,  he  slurs  at 
she  sense,  man's  snuffing  at  woman's  loving,  and  the  like,  to  become 
slightly  excited  ;  and  then,  as  they  feel  themselves  called  upon  to  ex- 
temporize without  a  moment's  preparation,  or  a  moment's  pause,  they, 
of  course,  do  not  deliver  themselves  with  a  due  regard  to  logical 
precision,  or  methodical  arrangement.  Constrained  in  their  hurry 
to  snatch  up  any  implement  of  warfare  that  presents  itself,  ttey  have 
no  time  to  consider  its  fitness,  or  unfitness,  for  the  contest;  conse- 
quently, they  sometimes  seize  a  battle-axe,  with  handle  so  long,  that 
while  the  blade  hits  the  enemy,  the  handle  knocks  down  two  or 
three  friends  at  the  s:ime  time.  They  send  otT  a  petard  so  mal- 
adroitly,  that,  while  it  only  singes  the  foe,  it  blows  up  whole  pla- 
toons of  allies.  It  should  be  remembered,  likewise,,  that  they  fight 
only  "  to  restore  the  equilibrium  " — never  for  pcrn)anent  conquest. 
It  would  be  very  strange,  therefore,  if,  under  these  circumstances, 
they  did  not  at  times  seem  inconsistent  in  their  words  and  ways. 
Now,  Mrs.  Thompson  was  one  of  this  class,  and  one  of  the  very  best 
of  this  class.  While  upon  this  head,  let  mo  disabuse  the  reader's 
mind  of  another  false  impression  that  he  ma}',  perchance,  receive 
from  the  scene  of  consolations  which  he  has  just  witnessed.  He 
may  suppose  from  the  Captain's  sudden  change  of  note,  as  soon  as 
his  wife  took  up  the  soothing  harpsichord,  that,  except  in  the  mat- 
ter of  George,  and  upon  a  few  very  rare  occasions,  when  *'  he  put 
his  foot  down,"  he  was  under  pretty,  rigid  petticoat  government. 
Not  80.  Foot  down,  or  foot  up,  whenever  a  material  issue  occurred 
between  the  h-ads  of  the  family,  his  judgment  was  fignl  and  con- 
clusive; but  iu  matters  of  minor  import  both  acted  independently. 


94  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

The  jurisdictions  of  each  were  early  defined  after  the  marriage; 
t(^  the  madam  was  assigned  the  house,  the  kitchen,  the  smoke  house, 
and  the  garden,  in  absolute  sovereignty;  to  himself,  all  other  inter- 
ests were  accorded.  After  children  were  born  to  them,  all  fell  un- 
der her  jurisdiction  up  to  the  age  of  six;  then,  the  Captain  assumed 
a  little  authority  over  the  males,  up  to  ten,  when  he  reversed  the 
order  of  things,  he  becoming  principal  and  she  secondary.  As  to 
the  females,  he  claimed  no  privileges,  but  the  very  humble  ones  of 
grunting  and  turning  up  his  nose  occasionally  at  their  flounces,  and 
of  grumbling  annually  (vide  supra,^  at  their  store  bills.  Small  as 
these  'things  were,  they  were  unconstitutional  encroachments,  for 
which  he  received  the  due  retributions,  to  which  he  submitted  with 
no  other  sign*  of  impatience  than  perpetrating  a  joke,  or  a  witticism, 
in  the  midst  of  them,  always  under  tlfe  pain  of  double  punishment — 
yes,  he  was  guilty  at  tinges  of  other  encroachments  in  the  way  of 
certain  signific-int  "  IlnmjjJis !"  at  pale  cofi'ee,  undone  biscuits, 
burnt  meat,  and  the  like,  at  meals ;  to  which  she  responded  in  the 
following  apologetic  terms  : 

"  When  your  negroes  cease  to  he  masters  and  mistresses  of  the  fa- 
mil?/,  majjhe  you  II  get  something  fit  to  eat."  To  which,  at  the  ear- 
liest convenient  opportunity,  she  added  an  amendment,  in  manner 
and  form  following,  to-wit : 

"  1  suppose  you.  (little  Sueky,)  thinh  that  because  the  grown  nig- 
gers are  allowed  to  run  over  me,  and  do  as  they  please,  YOU  can  do  so 
too;  hut  Til  teach  you  better  Miss.  I  can  manage  you,  myself ^  Miss 
JSmjrress  Catherine  !"  Meaning,  thereby,  that  the  aforesaid  David 
Thompson  had  been  guilty  of  crassa,  negligentia,  and  divers  non- 
feasances, to  the  great  detriment  of  the  said  Mary,  and  highly  un- 
becoming the  Chief  Executive  officer  of  the  Thompsonian  Govern- 
ment. By  means  whereof  the  most  insignificant  subjects  of  said 
Government  had  eome  to  regard  themselves  Emperors  and  Empres- 
ses, and  to  deport  themselves  to  the  said  Mary  accordingly. 

To* these  impeachments,  the  Captain  filed  no  plea;  "sometimes 
pretending"  that  he  was  too  deaf,  and  at  others  too  busy  to  hear 
them. 

Nor  did  the  madam  always  keep  within  her  legitimate  domain. 
She  would,  with  malice  aforethought,  stop  a  plow  to  send  Sarah  to  a 
quilting,  and  then,  the  Captain's  foot  would  come  down  in  earnest^ 
and  he'd  "  wonder  whether  there  was  a  woman  in  the  world  that 
wouldn't  lose  a  crop  to  give  her  daughter  a  sugar-tit  \"  All  which, 
qnd  sauch  more  like  it,  Mrs.  T.  bore  with  lamb-like  meekness,  and 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN.  95 

speechless  submission,  her  eyes  looking  out  meantime  as  though  she 
was  contemplating  evening  clouds.  The  equilibrium  was  beautifully 
preserved  in  the  Captain's  family. 

From  all  this,  it  appears  that  Thompson  was  no  farther  under  petti 
coat  government  tliau  all  husbands  arc,  and  all  good  husbands  ought 
to  be.     He  was  a  very  happy  man  in  his  family,  and  his  wife  was  as 
happy  as  he  was. 

Before  his  wife  returned  from  the  visit  of  consolations,  the  Cap- 
tain had  finished  a  short  letter  to  William,  reporting  Doctor  Wad- 
del's  opinion  of  him,  the  gratification  it  afforded  his  mother  in  par- 
ticular, and  I'.is  connections  in  general — urging  him  not  to  disappoint 
the  high  expectations  which  had  been  raised  of  him — to  be  studious 
— not  to  mind  the  taunts  of  the  boys  about  his  fine  clothes — to  wear 
them  out  as  rjuick  as  possible  with  lightwood  knots,  aud  get  plain, 
coafse'  ones.  "  Let  the  boys  see,"  said  the  Captain,  "  that  if 
you  do  not  know  how  to  work,  you  can  soon  learn.  Beat  them  ia 
every  thing.  Beat  them  in  learning,  in  working,  in  running,  ia 
jumping,  in  wrestling,  in  athletic  sports  of  every  kind..  That  is  the 
way  to  make  them  respect  you."  We  must  not  let  the  reader  sup- 
pose that  the  Captain  omitted  the  important  matter  of  diet,  though 
he  expressed  himself  upon  it  in  very  coarse  terms — withal,  they  are 
characteristic :  "  Don't  let  your  head  be  always  running  upon  what 
is  to  go  into  your  paunch." 

The  Captain  was  just  folding  his  letter,  when  his  wife  returned, 
"  Well,  Mary,"  said  he,  "and  how  did  Anna  seem  when  you  left; 
her  ?" 

"  Why,  poor  dear  soul,  it's  enough  to  make  one's  heart  bleed  to 
see  her.  She  docs  try  her  very  best  to  become  reconciled  to  Wil- 
liam's lot,  but  it  seems  impossible.  If  you  could  have  heard  her 
when  she  talked  about  your  kindness  to  her,  and  ho«  it  increased 
her  griefs  to  know  how  they  afflicted  you,  it  would  have  filled  your 
eyes  with  tears.  Do,  my  dear  husband,  be  as  kind  and  tender  to 
her  as  you  can.  She  says  that  she  will  strive  to  overcome  her  feel- 
ings for  your  sakc-^ "        f 

"  Well,  that  is  all  I  can  expect  of  her,"  said  the  Captain,  with 
suffused  eyes — "  visit  her  every  day,  Mary,  and  keep  her  as  much  as 
possible  from  brooding  over  William's  fate.  See  if  yoi*  can't  per- 
suade her  to  take  a  trip  of  a  month  or  two  from  home,  as  soon  as 
the  WQather  breaks — I  must  away  to  the  post  office." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

At  tho  very  time  when  Doctor  Waddel  was  penning  his  letter  to 
Captain  Thompson,  teeming  with  compliments  to  William  Mitten, 
the  same  William  Mitten  was  writing  another  to  his  mother  teem- 
ing with  phillippics  against  Doctor  Waddel ;  but  as  good  luck  would 
have  it  William's  letter  was  about  a  month  in  reaching  his  mother. 
This  may  seem  strange  to  the  reader  of  the  present  day,  when  com- 
munications pass' between  New  York  and  New  Orleans  in  a  few  min- 
utes and  letters  pass  between  them  by  the  due  course  of  mail  in  five 
or  six  days.  But  the  matter  is  easily  explained.  In  the  good  old 
days  of  President  Jefferson,  people  were  not  as  much  like  the  Athe 
nians  as  they  are  now — that  is,  so  greedy  of  news  that  they  could 
think  of  nothing  else ;  and  had  they  been,  they  would  have  deemed 
it  utterly  impracticable  to  send  a  letter  by  public  conveyance  over 
sixty  miles,  in  less  than  two  days,  excluding  stoppages.  And  if 
Dogfight  post  office  lay  on  the  way,  and  rain  fell  between  times,  the 
post-boy  was  commended  if  he  came  up  to  schedule  time.  But  if 
Dogfight  and  Possum-town  post  offices  both  lay  on  the  way,  and  a 
storm  intervened,  three  days  to  sixty  miles  was  considered  but  a 
scant  allowance.  No  mails  were  carried  in  Greorgia  by  vehicles,  but 
the  mails  between  Augusta  and  Savannah  ;  none  in  South  Carolina, 
we  believe,  but  between  Charleston  and  Columbia.  All  others  were 
horse  mails,  couimonly  in  charge  of  boys  under  nineteen  years  of  age. 
These  took  their  rest  at  night,  and  took  shelter  from  rain  in  the  day, 
as  their  health  required.  The  vehicles  called  sfages  carried  passen- 
gers as  well  as  mails.  They,  too,  stopt  for  the  night,  and  well  for 
the  passengers  that  they  did;  for  Waddel's  shaking  of  Brace  was  a 
comfort  compared  to  the  shaking  and  bouncing  of  passengers  in 
these  vehicles,  when  going  over  rooty,  rutty,  and  stony  ground. 

The  facetious  Oliver  H.  Prince,  who  was  toothless  in  front,  upon 
being  asked  how  he  lost  his  teeth,  replied,  "that  they  were  jolted 
out  by  traveling  over  Georgia  roads  in  a  stick  sulky."  If  this  were 
true,  teeth  must  have  been  scarce  among  the  stage  passengers  between 
Augusta  and  Savannah,  sandy  as  the  road  was  for  the  most  part.* 

Besides  the  tardiness  of  the  mails,  there  was  another  more  serious 

. « 

*  Post  Coaches  were  introduced  in  South  CaroHna  and  Georgia  by  Eleazer 
Early,  in  1825,  we  think ;  and  we  knoiv  that  the  first  passengers  in  one  of  them 
were  Gen.  Thomas  Glascock,  Major  Freeman- "Walker,  arid  the  writer,  of  Geor- 
gia, and  Col.  Christian  Breithaupt,  of  South  Carolina. 


MASTER    WILLIAM  MITTEN.  97 

obstacle  to  ready  coinmunicatioa  between  tbe  students  and  their  pa- 
rents at  a  distance.  The  nearest  post  office  to  Willington  was,  as  we 
have  iiitiuiatod,  at  Vienna^  six  miles  from  the  Acadeuiy;  and  in  all 
Willington  jr>rq/jcr  or  cominon  there  was  but  one'horse  that  coiild  al- 
waj's  be  had  for  hire,  and  that  wes  Southerland's  old  Botherem.' 
Now,  for  a  student  to  wait  the  revolution  of  fifty  or  sixty  Saturdays 
before  his  turn  to  hire  old  Botherem  rolled  round,  would  have  been 
distressingly  dilatory.  Withal,  to  hire  him  just  to  mail  a  letter,  was 
"rather  fatijuing  to  the  Jrnaiicrs"  of  the  youth  of  tliis  Institution, 
which  were  exceedingly  reduced  in  those  days.  To  walk  six  miles  to 
mail  a  letter,  was  out  of  the  question.  The  only  alternative  left, 
and  that  which  was  universally  adopted,  was  to  take  the  chance  of  a 
visitor  to  the  village  on  business,  or  pleasure,  and  the  chance  of  hear- 
ing of  his  intended  departure  before  it  occurred,  and  the  chance  of 
seeing  the  visitor  ad  interim,  and  the  chance  of  his  being  willing  to 
bear  the  letter,  and  the  chance  of  his  not  forgetting  to  mail  it  after  he 
took  charge  of  it.  It  might  be,  therefore,  especially  with  a  new 
comer  to  the'  school,  several  weeks  before  all  these  contingencies 
would  result  favorably  to  the  writer,  and  so  it  was  with  William. 
His  letter  to  his  mother  made  his  f^re  even  worse  than  it  was,  by  a 
total  omission  of  wheat  biscuit  at  least  once  in  three  weeks,  and 
sometimes  oftener,  and  butter  "  semi-occasionally,"  and  fresh  pork 
for  middling,  every  now  and  then ;  chicken  pie  twice  or  thrice  a 
year  ;  and  turkey  as  often  as  old  Manor*  could  kill  a  wild  one,  which 
happened  about  once  in  two  years  ;  and  venison  as  often  as  old  Mancr 
could  Jcill  n  deer,  which  happened  once  in  three  years.  Of  course, 
master  Mitten  was  not  to  blame  for  omitting  all  these  thinss,  for 
even  biscuit-time  had  not  rolled  round  when  he  wrote;  but  it  is  due 
to  the  kind-hearted  landlord  and  landlady,  that  Mitten's  report 
should  receive  the  just  qualifications.  After  descanting  upon  his 
board  and  lodging,  he  proceeded  as  follows  :  "  All  I  ever  heard  about 
old  Waddcl,  is  true.  He  whips  ten  times  as  much  as  Mr.  Markham 
does,  and  twice  as  hard,  and  laughs  and  chuckles  all  the  time  he  is 
doing  it,  like  it  made  his  heart  glad  to  cut  boys'  legs  all  to  pieces. 

"  Last  Monday  morning,  one  boy  named  Ned  Brace  made  him 
mad,  and  he  caught  him  by  the  throat  with  both  hands,  and  lifted 
him  up,  and  slammed  him  down,  and  jerked  him  all  about  among 
the  boys,  till  I  thought  he  would  have  killed  him;  and  I  wish  he 
had,  for  he  does  nothing  but  torment  mc  every  chance  he  gets. 
Uncle  had  haidly  left  here,  before  he  came  up  to  me,  and  asked  me 

♦A  fancy  shoemaker  and  great  hunter,  who  boarded  at  Newby's. 


98  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

tow  long  I  thought  it  would  be  before  I  would  blossom?  I  told  him 
I  did  not  know  what  he  meant.  'I  mean,'  says  he,  'how' long  will 
it  be  before  your  shirt  begins  to  peep  out  of  your  breeches  and 
jacket  V  Then  he  tells  me  I  am  the  prettiest  boy  he  ever  laid  his 
eyes  on,  and  have  got  the  prettiest  little  hands  and  feet  that  he  ever 
did  see,  and  that  it  almost  makes  him  cry  his  eyes  out  to  think  that 
my  pretty  hands  will  have  to  touch  lightwood  knots;  and  that  I  never 
shall  do  it,  for  ho  will  get  a  nice  little  pair  of  tongs  for  me  to  pick 
up  the  knots  with,  and  a  pretty  little  band-box  for  me  to  carry  them 
in.  The  othefi-  day  he  squalled  out  to  me,  right  before  all  the  boys, 
'  Oh,  Bill  Mitten,  I  have  found  you  out,  have  I  ?  I  suspected  it  as 
soon  as  I  saw  you,  but  I  thought  nobody  would  do  such  a  thing.' 

"  '  What  do  you  mean  ?'  said  I.     '  What  have  I  done  ?' 

"  '  Why,'  says  he,  '  you  have  come  here  in  boy's  clothes,  and  you 
inow  very  well  that  you  are  a  girl ;  and  I  believe  you  are  the  very 
girl  that  looked  so  hard  at  me  in  church  last  vacation.  I  knew  you 
loved  me,  but  I  never  thought  you  would  follow  me  here  in  that 
■plight.  What  do  you  expect  uje  to  do?  Do  you  think  I  would 
marry  any  girl  in  the  world  that  acts  that  way  ?' 

"  Here,  I  ordered  the  monitor  to  set  him  down  for  making  game 
of  me,  and  telling  lies ;  and  I  do  hope  old  Waddcl  will  give  him 
twice  the  choking  and  jerking  ]-.e  gave  him  last  Monday.  He  is, 
everlastingly  tormenting  me,  and  setting  all  the  boys  to  laughing  at 
aae.  *  *  *  *  *  The  boys  here  are  the  smartest  boys  I  ever 
saw;  and  they  study  the  hardest  of  any  boys  I  ever  saw;  but  they 
do  not  seem  to  like  mc,  and,  therefore,  I  keep  away  from  them,  ex- 
cept a  few  good  boys,  who  are  very  kind  to  me.  All  their  amuse- 
3Qttents  are  running,  jumping,  wrestling,  playing  town-ball,  and  bull- 
pen. The  big  boys  hunt  squirrels,  turkeys,  &c.,  of  Saturday.^,  and 
'possums  and  coons  of  nights.  Mr.  Waddel  does  not  require  them 
to  study  at  their  boarding-houses,  though  they  almost  all  do  it." 

This  was  true  from  1805  to  1808,  but  about  the  latter  period,  a 
shoal  of  city  youths  entered  the  school,  who  abused  their  privileges 
so  much  that  they  were  curtailed  one  "by  one,  until  at  length  the 
gtudents  were  forbidden  the  use  of  fire-arms,  were  required  to  retire 
to  rest  at  9  o'clock  P.  M.,  if  not  engaged  in  study  beyond  that  hour, 
to  consume  but  fifteen  minutes  at  their  meals,  and  to  rise  with  the 
sun  every  morning.  It  is,  a  remarkable  fact,  that,  with  two  or  three 
exceptions,  no  student  \)fho  entered  this  school  between  the  years 
1806  and  1810,  from  th^e  largest  cities  of  Georgia  and  South  Caro- 
lina, ever  became  greatly  distinguished ;  while  the  period  including 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MlTfEX.  99 

those  dates  was  the  most  fruitful  of  great  men  of  any  of  the  same 
length,  during  the  whole  time  of  Doctor  Waddel's  instnuctorship.* 

Master  Mitten  closed  his  letter  with  a  most  earnest  appeal  to  his 
mother  "todo  all  that  she  could  to  get  his  uncle  to  remove  him  from 
this  school."  She  furthwith  dispatched  u  messenger  to  the  Captain, 
who  was  soon  at  her  side.  He  found  her  weeping,  of  course.  The  letter 
was  handed  to  him,  and  he  commenced  reading  it  gravely;  but 
when  he  reached  the  complaints  against  Ned  Brace,  he  began  to 
laugh,  and  laughed  more  and  more  immoderately  as  he  progressed. 

"  Brother  David,"  said  his  sister,  "what  do  you  find  in  the  letter 
to  amuse  you  so  much  ?" 

"  Why,  this  odd  fish,  Ned  Brace  !" 

"It  seems  to  mc  very  strange  that  you  can  find  anything  laugli- 
able  in  such  vulgar,  unprovoked  rudeness  as  he  shows  to  your 
nephew.'' 

"  Oh,  Anna,  I  wouldn't  mind  these  little  boyish  frolics.  There 
arc  always  some  Braces  in  a  school,  whom  the  boys  soon  get  used  to, 
and  become  amused  with  rather  than  angry  with.-  As  soon  as  Bill 
blossoms,  no  doubt  Ned  will  let  him  alone " 

"Brother  David,  I  shall  take  it  as  a  great  favor,  if  you  will  not 
obtrude  the  refined  Mr.  Brace's  wit  on  my  car,  how  much  soever  you 
may  relish  it." 

"Well,  now,  Anna,  you  have  a*  great  deal  of  the  blame  of  all  this 

to  take  to  yourself.     You  have  raised  your  child  in  a   band-box 

Oh,  come  back  Anna  !  I  give  you  my  word  and  honor  I  had  no  al- 
lusion to  Brace's  fun.  I  told  you  not  to  rig  William  out  in  finery  for 
that  school;  but  you  would  ;  and  now,  he  is  verifying  my  prediction. 
But  do  not  take  such  trifles  so  much  to  heart.  William  tells  you  the 
boys  there  are  the  smartest  and  the  most  studious  boys  ho  ever  saw ; 
'and  Waddel  tells  you  that  he  is  among  the  most  promising  of  them 
all.  Now,  think  of  these  things,  and  do  not  let  the  fun  or  folly  of 
his  schoolmates  distress  you.  He  seems  to  have  a  fine  protector  from 
Brace,  at  least,  in  Mr.  Waddel.  If  William  docs  his  duty  he  will 
soon  command  the  re.spcct  of  all  his   school-fellows,   even  of  Brace 


•  Wc  n.Tine  tne  followinp:  "Wni.  I).  Martin,  M.  C,  Jiidg-e  Circuit  Court,  S.  C.  ; 
Kldrcd  Simkins,  M.  C,  S.  C. ;  J-imcs  L.  Pettigru,  Atlomoj  Gfiicral  and  District 
Judge,  iS.  C. ;  Andrew  Govnn,  M.  0,,  S.  C. ;  Hug'li  S.  Lcpraro,  Attorney  General 
U.  S.,  S.  C. ;  George  McDuOie,  M.  C,  and  Governor  of  8.  C. ;  Lewh  "Wardlaw, 
Judge  Superior  Court,  8.  G. ;  Fnncis  Wardlaw,  Cliancellor  S.  C. ;  George  E. 
Gilmer,  M.  C,  and  Governor,  Ga  ;  George  Gary,  M.  C,  Ga. ;  John  "Walker,  Lf.  C, 
Ala.;  Henry  W.  Collier,  Governor  and  Chancellor,  AJa. ;  and  many  others  of 
lower  rank.  Joiiu  C.  Calhoun  and  ^V■lllia^l  11.  Crawford  were  Waddel's  pupils, 
of  earlier  date. 


100  MASTER  WILLIAM    MIITEN. 

himself.  As  to  his  leavin.f^  that  school,  it  is  out  of  the  question. 
There  are  but  two  contingencies  upon  which  it  can  be  done.  His 
sickness  is  one,  and  the  other,  I  shall  keep  to  mjself,  for  the  pres- 
ent, at  least." 

"Did  you  not  say  that*you  left  it  optional  with  him  to  board  at 
Mr.  Newby's  or  elsewhere  ?" 

"I  did,  and  so  he  may.  By  going  to  another  boarding-  house,  he 
will  get  rid  of  Brace  of  nights  and  mornings,  but  not  of  noons.  I 
have  no  idea  that  the  fare  is  any  better  at  the  other  houses  than  it  is 
at  Newby's.  He  is  now  convenient  to  the  'Academy,'  with  pleasant 
room-mates,  acquainted  with  the  boarders,  his  landlord  and  landlady, 
and,  doubtless,  better  satisfied  upon  the  whole  than  he  will  be  any 
where  else.  Now,  would  you  put  him  among  strangers,  with  what 
kind  of  a  room-mate  you  know  not,  and  have  him  walk  from  one  to 
three  miles  every  night  and  morning,  through  winter  storm,  and 
summer  heat,  just  to  have  him  a  little  better  fed  than  he  is,  and  to 
remove  him  from  the  taunts  of  one  waggish  boy?" 

Mrs.  Mitlen  pondered  over  these  sayings  sadly  for  a  time,  and 
then  rejoined  :  "Now,  brother,  you're  always  ascribing  William's 
misfortunes  to  my  folly  or  v/eakness  ;  tell  me  candidlj^,  isn't  it  bad 
luck,  and  nothing  but  bad  luck,  that  Mr.  Waddel's  school  happens 
to  fall  in  the  woods  ?  That  William  should  be  compelled  to  endure 
such  rough  fare  ?  And  that  he  should  have  fallen  into  the  same  ^ 
boarding  house  with  that  tantalizing  Ned  Brace?" 

"Well,  as  Bill  is — that  is,  as  you  have  made  him — I  don't  know 
but  that  his  falling  in  with  Brace  may  b(i  considered  rather  unlucky; 
but  if  he  had  been  raised  as  he  should  have  been,  he  would  proba- 
bly have  been  able  to  stop  Brace's  mouth  wiihuut  appealing  to  Mr. 
Waddel.  But  as  he  is,  why  doesn't  he  give  Brace  as  good  as  he  sends? 
If  Brace  ridicules  his  fine  clothes,  why  doesn't  he  ridicule  Brace's 
coarse  and  dirty  ones!  If  he  admires  Bill's  pretty  face,  why  does 
npt  Bill  laugh  at  his  ugly  one!  If  he  calls  Bill  a  pretty  girl,  why 
does  not  Bill  call  him  an  ugly  wench  !  That's  the  way  to  meet  such 
larks  as  Brace  ;   not  to  play  the  girl  before  him,  sure  enough. 

"As  to  the  fare,  I  consider  that  sheer  good  luck..  It's  high  time 
that  Bill  had  the  cakes,  and  the  su^ar-plums  with  which  you  have 
been  stuffing  him  all  his  life  purged  out  of  him " 

"Why,  brother  !  where  did  you  learn  your  coarse  language  ?  Not 
from  your  father  or  mother,  I  knovr." 

"I  learned  it  from  Williani'3  brin^ring  up  ;  the  like  of  Avhich  you 
never  saw    in  your   mother's  familj,  I  know.     She  taught  me,  God 


MASTER    WILLIAM   MIITKN.  101 

bless  her  !  to  work,  to  move  (|uick  at  her  bidding,  to  eat  just  what 
was  set  before  me — and  she  generally  set  before  me  for  breakfiist,  as 
you  know,  a  pewter-basln  of  clabber,  and  a  pone  of  corn-bread,  a  pew- 
ter-tumbler of  milk  or  butter-milk,  asd  a  pewter  plate  of  fried  apples, 
'most  floating  in  sop,  with  three  little  pieces  of  clear,  curled  middling 
perched  up  on  top  of  them,  like  ilried  bean-pods.  iNly  dinner  was 
just  the  same,  with  an  occasional  change  of  meat  to  squirrel,  'possum, 
venison,  and  very  rarely  beef.  For  supper,  I  had  wind  and  water, 
and  nothing  else.  AVhen  I  was  thirteen  ov  fourteen  years  old,  I  have 
no  doubt  I  should  have  considered  Newby's  fare  perfectly  luxurious — 
certainly,  it  is  quite  as  good  as  I  was  raised  on." 

"You  surely  don't  think  of  what  you  are  saying,  brother.  Moth- 
er bad  both  cliina  and  crockery  ware,  and  some  silver  ware;  and  she 
was  one  of  the  nicest  house-keepers  and  best  pastry-cooks  in  the 
world." 

"Oh,  yes,  she  had  a  set  of  china;  I  remember  it  well;  though  I 
never  got  but  three  lair  looks  at  it  in  a^l  my  life  ;  and  I  remember 
quite  as  weU  having  got  twice  three  fair  licks,  when  about  seven  years 
old,  for  trying  to  climb  up  to  the  upper  story  of  the  old  buffet,*  to 
ascertain  what  those  shining  things  were  that  peeped  oixt  of  the  dark 
garret  every  time  that  mother  opened  the  door  of  the  buffet.  How 
many  pieces  there  were  at  t'lis  periodJ  do  not  know;  but  I  know  that 
just  seven  (counting  a  cnp  and  saucer  as  one)  survived  the  Revolu- 
tion. They  cam»!  in  full  view  before  me,  when  three  officers  of  the 
army  stopt  at  our  house  for  a  night.  The  t^vpper,  I  had  not  the  plea- 
sure of  seeing,  as  mother  invited  me  over  to  Uncle  John's  to  spend 
the  evening;  but  the />re(f A-/as<  was  prodigious  I  First,  there  was  a 
table  cloth  spread  on  the  table.  This  wa.s  amazing;  and  I  ventured 
to  feel  it,  at  the  expense  of  a  back -handed  lick  right  here  !  (pointing 
to  the  back  of  his  ear.)  Then  came  forth  six  crockery  plates,  laid 
bottom  upwards,  wi*h  knives  and  forkR  by  t'heir  sides,  which  I  had 
never  seen  before.  Then  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  table  a  large 
waiter  with  something  on  it  covered  over  with  a  shining  white  napkin. 

*Tlie  bulTct,  often  c;illcd  tlio  Lo/at,  was  a  trianjrular  cupbourd,  e^a  t-litted  to 
llie  conicr  of  a  room,  iitid  e.xtciidini^  from  the  door  nearly  to  the  ceil inp.  The 
first  slielf  in  it  was  ahout  two  find  a  half  feft  from  the  bottom.  nn<\  ilie  opace 
was  closed  by  a  door,  or  fiildiiijjdooro,  with  loi-k  and  key.  This  waa  the  depos- 
itory of  tlie  iainily  groceries  Then,  came  another  .shelf,  and  nnotiier.  and  ano- 
*lier.  to  the  top.  Tlleso  were  all  closed  by  plaps  doors.  f«r  a  single  door,  after  the 
manner  o  n  window  Blmlter.  Tlic  first  division  w.is;ippropriated  to  the  iijfhter 
pewter-ware.  The  set'ond  to  the  liquors  (or  the  d.iy,  with  their  nec<ifhl  accom- 
paniments of  honey,  sometimes  Piij;ar.  mint.  bowN.  mii>;3.  .spotms.  andocrnsion- 
Blly  jrhiss  tumblers  The  tliird  contained  the  crockery,  and  the  fourth,  balf-coa- 
cealed  by  the  cornice  of  the  buffet,  the  china  aud  silver  ware,  if  any. 

H 


102  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

(llevu  I  got  lick.  No.  2,  for  pcoping   under  tKc  napkin.)     There  was 
set  in  tlic  centre  of  the  table  a  peppcr-hox.    and  a  salt-cellar,  the  last 
after  the  fashion  of  a  morning-glory  on  the  foot  of  a  wine-glass.     Ou 
either  side  of  said  sah-cellar,  and  equi-di^itant  from  it — say  nine  inch- 
es— two  tahle-spoons  of  solid  silver  crossed  each  other,  howls  down- 
ward, and  two  more  lav.  the  one  at  father's  plate,  and  the  otherwhere 
the,  fried  ehickon  was  to  be  ;  on  mother's  side  of  the  first   brace,  was 
placed  a  little  glass  bucket,  like  a  doctor's  mortar,  full  of  rich  yellow 
b;itter,  fri?;zled  all  over,  pine-burr  fashion.     Now  came  in  a  plate  of 
beautiful  hist uit ;  then  an  equally  beautiful  loaf  of  light-bread;  then 
a  plate  of  new-fashioned  corn  bread,  parceled  out  by  the    spoonful, 
and  baked  iu  the  shape  that  the  spoon  gave  it.     Then  came  in  a  dish 
of  nice  fried  ham — then  another  of  fried    chicken,  dressed    off'  with 
cream,  and  flour  doings,  and  parsley;  then  another  of  broiled  chick- 
en, put  up  as  now,  with  wings  akimbo,  and   leg.^   booted  in  its  own 
skin;  then  came  two  bowls  of  boiled  eggs,  the  one  hard  and  the  other 
soft — not  tbe  bowls,  but  the  eggs.     All  this  accomplished,  the  napkin 
was  removed,  and  oh  I  what  a  sight  was  there  !     A  china  te-i-pot,  six 
oupsand  six  saucers,  all  real  china,  and  all  with  red  pictures  on  them,' 
of  things  I  had  aev(^'  seen,  and  have  never  since  seen!     A  proud,- 
dandyish,  pot-bellied,  nariow-ueckcd,  big-mouthed,    thin-skinned  sil- 
ver cream-pot,  strutted  out  among  the  china,  and  turned  down  its  only 
lip,    at  everything   it  faced,  most  insultingly.     A  silver  sugar-di.sh, 
shaped  like  the  half  of  a  small    muskmelon,   stood  modestly  by  the 
dapper  cream-p,ot.     Motiier  picks  up  the  little  dandy,  and  turns  him 
bottom  upwards,  to  make  him  disgorge  six  silver    tea-spoons  that  he 
had  swallowed.     Tlio  h;;ndle3    appear,  but  the   bowls   stick  in  his 
throat.     She  rights  him,  gives  bis  scat  a  pat  on  the  table,  and  turns 
tim  up  again;  butln^  can't  deliver.     She  therefore  picks  out  of  him 
one  spoon  at  a  time,  aid  lays  it  in  a  saucer  by  the  side  of  a  cup.  She 
Eow  orders  Silvy  to  bri.vg  in  ''the  li((Ic  2'>^'(cher  of  cream."     The  little 
pitcher  appears  (pure  cruokery)    with  half  its  lip  bit  off',  and  the  han- 
dle gone,  and  an  ugly  crack  meandering   from  the  upper  foot  of  the 
handle  towards  the  disfigured  lip.     The  little  gentleman   is  carefully 
filled  irum  the  pitcher,  his  mouth  is  wiped  clean,  and    he  is  set  up  to 
make  mouths  at  me   till  the  compaay  comes.     The  pitcher  goes  back 
to  the  dairy  privately.     Dick  is  ordered  to  bring  in  the  coff'ee,  and  it 
appears  in  a  large  tin  cofTee-pot.     The  lea-pot   is  filled  out  of  it,  and 
it  is  ordered  back  to  the  fire  ia  the  kitchen.     All  things  are  now  in 
order,  and   I  am  directed   to  inform  the   company   that  breakfast  is 
ready.     And  now,  Mrs.  Anna  Mitten,  you  have  had  a  full  display  of 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MITTEN.  103 

all  the  crockery,  cliina,  aud  silver,  that  your  mother  possessed  from 
the  year  1773  to  the  year  1787,  v/hcu  the  nvholc  disappeared  with 
s:ster  Jane,  upon  her  marriage." 

"You  surely  mistake  some  thing.?,  brother,"  i-u.id  Mrs.  Mitten, 
smilinp^,  "and,  therefore,  it'ia«r«ite  likely  yon  mistake  the  amount  and 
kind  of  mother's  tnble-\Yare.VMother  never  let  us  saunter  about  the 
table  when  she  was*  fixing  for  company.  She  never  sent  you  in  your 
coarst!  clothing  to  call  American  officers  to  breakfast " 

"Just  stop  there  a  moment,  sister,  and  I'll  explain  matters  to  your 
entire  satisfaction.  When  mother  invited  me  over  to  uncle's  for  the 
evening,  she  invited  me  home  again  at  day  break  the  next  morning.  I 
accepted  the  invitation,  and  was  prompt  to  the  time,  knowing  tbat 
ladies  always  get  in  a  pucker  when  fixing  for  compan}-,  especially  for 
'Mf  Qmdili/,'  and  that  it  would  have  beer,  very  undutilul  in  me  to 
add  a  scruple's  weight  to  mother's  disturbance  of  mind  upon  such 
occasions.  I  know  I  should  have  reflected  upon  it  with  pain,  as  soon, 
as  the  company  retired.  'Go,'  said  mother,  on  meeting  me,  'to  the 
spring,  and  letch  a  kceler  of  water,  and  take  it  up  in  tlie  loft,  and 
wash  and  dress  yourself,  and  come  dowu  to  my  room ;  you  will  find 
your  clean  clothes  on  the  bag  of  dried  apples.'  I  did  as  I  was  bid- 
den, aud  came  down  in  my  Sunday  suit,  and  walked  into  mother's 
room.  She  ran  her  eyes  over  me,  pulled  up  my  breeches,  pulled 
down  my  jacket,  spread  out  my  shirt  collar,  looked  for  dirt  on  my 
neck  and  behind  my  ears,  didn't  find  any,  clasped  my  shoes  a  lit- 
tle tighter,  combed  my  head,  powdered  it,  and  bade  me  take  my  seat 
in  the  dining  room.  All  this  w:is  done,  doubtless,  that  I  might  buve 
it  to  say,  in  after  times,  that  I  had  seen  General  Greene,  Colonel 
Washington,  and  Colonel  Willianxs;  that  they  had  supped  and  slept, 
and  breakfasted,  at  my  father's  house  ;  and  (perchance,)  that  I  had 
Actually  .spoken  to  tliem,  and  been  spoken  to  by  them.  It  may  be,  too, 
that  the  good  lady,  finding  me  getting  a  little  boorish,  wasdi.sposed  to. 
give  me  some  knowledge  of  nice  entertainments  and  genteel  w)ciety.  If 
iDv  improvement  was  her  object — if  she  designed  to  inspire  me  with 
military  order,  she  missed  it.  When  the  officers  first  took  their  seats 
At  the  table,  1  was  deeply  interested  in  their  looks  aud  conversation  j 
but  when  I  saw  all  the  luxuries  of  the  table  going  under  their  vorjv- 
cious  appetites  with  a  perfect  rush,  alarm  entirely  suffocated  admira- 

11.  The  vanishing  ham,  I  didn't  care  so  much  about;  but  as  piece 
utter  piece  of  chicken  disappeared,  and  egg  alter  egg,  and  biscuit  af- 
tcr  biscuit,  till  all  were  gone  but  two  chicken-necks,  one  hard  egg, 
two  elicea  of  ham  aud  three-quarters  of  the  loaf  of  bread,  I  became 


104  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

perfectly  furious,  and  a  Tory  outright ;  and  I  said  to  myself,  'if  these 
are  the  sort  of  fellows  who  are  fighting  for  our  liberties,  I  wish  that 
•  Cornwallia  and  Tarleton  (they  talked  mostly  of  them)  would  catch 
and  hang  every  rascal  of  them.' 

'^  The  same  breakfast  set  was  paraded  again,  near  the  same  time, 
when  Colonel  Lee  suj.ped  with  us,  and  nfever  again  until  Jane's  mar- 
riage. 

"And  now,  sister,  raised  as  we  have  been,  where  did  you  ^^et  your 
refinement  in  love  and  maternal  indulgence  from  ?" 

"In  your  zeal  to  display  all  mother's  crockery,  you  put  one  plate 
too  many  on  the  table,  brother." 

"No,  I  didn't ;  Uncle  John  was  expected  to  breakfast,  and  prevent- 
ed from  coming  by  a  shaking  ague  that  very  morning." 

Mrs.  Mitten  had  her  tears  turned  to  smiles,  at  least  by  the  Cap- 
tain's account  of  "the  old  folks  at  home,''  and  this  was  more  than  he 
hoped  for,  afttjr  reading  William's  letter.  He  begged  his  sister  to 
"■ive  William  no  encouragement  to  hope  for  a  removal  from  Waddcl'e. 
promised  to  write  to  him  himself,  and  left  her. 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Captain  Thompson's  design  was  to  keep  his  nephew  at  Doctor 
Waddel's  school  long  enough  to  wean  hin^  from  his  old  associates, 
and  his  old  habits,  to  put  at  least  seventeen  years  ujion  his  head  be- 
fore he  entered  College,  to  prepare  him  so  thoroughly  for  the  sopho- 
more class,  that  he  might  enter  it  with  credit,  and  in  the  meanijiae 
to  give  him  the  strength  and  vigor  of  censtitution,  that  would  sus- 
tain him  through  any  amount  of  mental  labor  that  he  might  find  it 
necessary  to  undergo  in  order  to  stand  at  the  head  of  his  classes  in 
College.  All  this  was  as  well  planned  as  it  could  be.  College  is  no 
place  for  a  youth  given  to  bad  habits.  It  sometimes  happens,  that 
religion  finds  such  an  one.  there,  and  reforms  him  ;  but  it  much 
oftener  happens,  that  he  makes  shipwreck  of  the  religion  of  all  his 
Colle'>-e  companions  who  associate  with  hioi.  Nor  should  a  youth  be 
sent  to  College  until  he  has  acquired  some  little  stability  of  character 
and  self-control;  and  seventeen  is  the  earliest  age  at  which  these 
can  be  hoped  for,  in  youths  generally.  Well  for  them  if  even  af 
that  age  they  have  the  moral  firmness  needful  to  resist  the  tempts^ 
tions  to  vice,  which  are  found  in  all  Colleges.  One  of  the  best  se- 
curities against  these  temptations  is  a  high  reputation  for  talents  and 
scholarship,    acquired  immediately  on  entering  College,      Students 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MIXrEN,  105 

will  commonly  stru<»^le  harder  to  maintain,  than  to  gain  a  high  po- 
sition in  tlieir  classes. 

But  to  the  success  of  Captain  Thompson's  plans,  it  was  indispens- 
able that  William  Mitten  should  become  reconciled  to  this  school; 
otherwise  he  would  keep  his  mother  in  such  a  state  of  mental  excite- 
loeot,  that  her  health  must  soon  give  way  under  it,  when  no  alter- 
native would  be  left  him,  but  to  save  the  life  of  the  mother,  by  io- 
dalgence  of  the  son.  He  flattered  himself  that  time  would  reconcile 
William  t»  the  school,  and  the  sooner,  when  he  saw  all  hope  of  leav- 
ing it  cut  off.  He  knew  that  the  worst  must  soon  be  told,  and  he 
supposed  that  if  he  could  carry  his  sister  safely  through  the  succes- 
sive developments  of  the  first  month  or  two,  his  ultimate  designs 
would  be  accomplished.  His  policy  was,  therefore,  to  lighten  the 
first  shock  of  each  unpleasant  discovery,  by  diverting  her  mind  from 
it,  with  something  amusing,  flattering,  or  harmlessly  controversial. 
The  critical  reader  will  have  learned  his  tactics  from  what  has  been 
recorded  specially  in  the  last  Chapter.  Having  allayed  the  mother's 
anxieties  for  a  moment  at  least,  ho  turned  to  the  son,  and  addressed 
to  him  a  letter,  in  which,  with  much  good  advice,  he  administered  to 
him  a  stern  rebuke  for  afflicting  his  mother  with  his  complaints. 
*'  Are  you,"  said  he,  "  so  inhuman,  so  brutish,  as  to  try  to  win  me 
over  to  your  wishes,  through  your  mother's  tortures  ?  Are  you  not 
well  enough  acquainted  with  her  to  know  that  she  never  forfeits  her 
word — that  she  would  sooner  die,  now,  than  reclaim  you  from  me 
until  your  education  is  completed  ?  Why,  then,  do  you  croak  to 
bcr  ?  Why  do  you  not  make  your  wants  and  discontents  known  to 
me.''  lam  the  only  one  that  can  appease  them. 

"And  you  are  grumbling  about  your  fare  already!  Why,  I  car- 
ried cakes  and  sugar  things  enough  with  you  to  last  you  one  week 
surely ;  and  pray  get  unstufTed  of  them,  before  you  begin  to  grumble 
about  your  next  cramming.  If  you  had  seen  your  father  and  me 
when  we  were  of  your  age,  gulping  down  ash-pone  and  "cracklings, 
you  would,  for  the  honor  of  the  stock  at  least,  keep  your  daintiness 
to  yourself.  1  don't  know  what  Newoy  gives  you  to  eat ;  "but  I  have 
no  doubt  it  would  have  been  a  feast  to  us  in  our  day.  What  apology 
have  you  for  grumbling  at  your  diet,  when  you  have  the  privilege  of 
boarding  where  you  please  ?  H"  you  don't  like  Newby's,  go  some- 
where else.  What  better  are  you  than  the  hundred  and  fifty  boys 
around  you  '!  Tiii,-<  much  you  may  take  for  settled  :  that  1  never  will 
take  tjou  axray  from  Mr,  Wudchrs,  Just  to  arrommodate.  your  belly. 
So  quit  your  grunting  about  what  you  arc  to  eat;  and  if  you  Vuust 
grunt,  grunt  to  me,  and  not  to  your  mother. 


106  MASTER    WILLIAM    MITPEN. 

"  And  what  does  it  signify  to  you,  who  or  how  '  old  Waddel,'  as 
you  call  hiu:;,  whips,  so  long  as  he  does  not  whip  you  ?  ^Old  Wad- 
ded ."  That  is  a  pi  etty  way  for  such  a  chap  as  you  are  to  speak  of  a 
man  of  Mr.  Waddel's  age  and  rank,  now  is  it  not  ?  Pray,  Master 
Mitten,  where  did  you  learn  your  manners  ?  From  '  itnde  Twaf.,' 
or  uncle  Sot?  lu  the  purler,  or  in  the  kitchen'/  Now  mark  me, 
young  man  !  The  next  time  you  write  that  name  in  that  way  to 
your  mother,  or  me,  I  will  cut  it  out  and  send  it  to  Mr.  Waddel,  and 
ask  him  whether  he  allows  his  pupils  to  speak  of  him  after  this 
manner.  I  lose' all  patience,  when  I  think  that  at  the  very  time 
■when  you  were  speaking  thus  rudely  of  him,  he  was  penning  a  let- 
ter filled  with  the  most  flattering  compliments  to  you " 

Whila  the  Captain  was  thus  writing  to  his  nepliew,  Mrs.  Mitten 
was  busily  en g<7ged  devising  moans  to  raise  her  son  above  wani  and 
ridicule.  She  resolved  that  William  never  should  "  blossom,"  and 
that  in  this  matter,  at  least,  she  would  disappoint  Mr.  Brace.  Ac- 
cordingly she  set  to  work  with  all  dispatch  to  make  him  up  two  new 
suits;  and  that  they  might  not  attract  attention  from  their  fineness, 
she  chose  for  them  the  coarsest  material  that  her  heart  would  consent 
to  William's  wearing.  "  Let  my  son."  sighed  she,  ''  look  like  a  ne- 
gro, rather  than  svffcr  icorse  than  one !"  She  taxed  her  mind  to 
find  some  decent  substitute  for  a  shirt,  but  failing  here,  she  made 
him  up  three  cotton  shirts,  of  Mrs.  Thurlow's  spinning  and  weaving 
— that  is  to  say — of  the  best- quality  of  home  manufacture.  To 
these  she  added  three  pairs  of  stockings  of  Mrs.  Figg's  knitting. 
All  these,  with  three  blankets,  and  two  pairs  of  cotton  sheets,  were 
packed  in  one  box;  but  as  they  did  not  quite  fill  it,  she  slipped  in- 
to it  one  tumbler  of  plum  jelly,  and  one  of  raspberry  jam.  These  • 
being  nicely  surrounded  and  covered  with  cotton,  the  box  was  closed. 
Another  was  replenished  with  biscuit,  crackers,  cheese,  tongue,  sliced 
ham,  sausages,  &c.,  &c.,  to  a  large  extent;  and  this  too,  like  the 
other,  was  closed  rather  carelessly.  The  whole  process  was  kept  a 
profound  secret  from  the  Captain  ;  and  indeed,  from  everybody  else, 
but  Tom,- ypoa  whom  secrecy  was  strictly  enjoined.  As  there  was 
no  hope  of  meeting  v/ith  a  convenient  opportunity  of  sending  these 
ourabrous  stores  to  William,  by  one  going  to  Willington,  Mrs.  Mitten 
determined  to  forward  them  without  delay  per  cart,  in  charge  of 
her  most  intelligent  and  truety  servant.  The  reader  immediately 
conjectures  who  this  servant  was.  But  a  very  ugly  difficulty  lay  be- 
tween the  plan  and  its  execution.  Tom  did  not  know  the  first  mile 
of  the  way  to  Willington,  and  to  get  directions  from  the  Captain, 


"MASTER    WILLIAM.  TtflTTEX.  107 

was  just  to  blow  the  whole  project  yky  hii^h.  Mrs.  Mitten  took  the 
rounds  of  the  stores,  therefore,  in  quest  of  the  desired  iniiirmntion. 
Bnt  few  of  the  merchants  or  citizens  of  whom  she  made  inquiry, 
had  ever  heard  of  Willington  j  and,  when  she  told  them  that  Wil- 
lington  was  the  place  where  Mr.  Waddel  kept  his  school,  thej 
looked  at  her  as  if  doubting  whether  she  was  in  her  right  mind;  for 
every  body  knew  that  her  son  was  at  Mr.  Waddcl's  school,  and  that 
her  brother  had  carried  him  there.  All  were  too  pblite,  however, 
to  a.<k  explanations  of  her.  From  3Ir.  West,  she.  got  a  little  light. 
He  told  her  that  when  her  brother  went  off  with  William,  he  met 
them  near  Mr.  Ellison's,  oa  the  Wiishingtoti  road.  This  was 
enough  to  start  by,  at  least;  and  she  knew  that  Mr.  Smith's  was 
the  first  stage ;  but  she  was  well  aware  that  it  would  never  do  to 
dispatch  Tom  upon  tliis  information  alone.  She  was  constrained, 
therefore,  to  resort  to  her  brother  at  last.  She  went  over  to  his 
house  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  found  that  he  had  gone  to  his  farm. 
She  awaited  his  return  ;  and  in  i\ny  meantime  made  a  confidant  of 
"'Irs.  Thompson,  and  bespoke  her  assistance  in  extracting  from  her 
Imsbaud  such  directions,  as  would  guide  Tom  surely  and  speedily  to 
Willington.  The  Captain  reached  home  just  at  supper  time.  His 
sister  greeted  him  with  a  radiance  of  couutenancc'and  gaiety,  of  man- 
ner, that  really  transported  him. 

"Oh,  my  dear  sis,"  said  he,  "  how  happy  I  am  to  see  you  so 
cheerful — so  much  like  your  own  dear,  sweet,  former  self  I  What  good 
news  have  you  heard?" 

"None,  brother.  My  checrfulDcs.s  is  not  altogether  real;  but  I 
hope  it  soon  will  be  so;  and  perhaps  the  best  way  to  make  it  so.  is  to 
assume  it  when  I  can." 

So  went  the  conversation,  as  they  wont  to  the  tabic.  When  seated, 
Mrs.  Mitten  actually  began  a  playful  conversation  with  Mrs.  Thomp- 
son, by  enquiring  whether  ,-he  had  heard  lately  of  "'David  Kamsay, 
on  of  Dr.  I'amsay,  the  Uistorian,  &c.,  itc,  &c." 

•'No,"  .said    Mary,  "I  don't  think   he'll    cv-  -  '  :o  mo 

again,  as  long  as  he  lives." 

The  Captain  roared,  and  all  laugh,  d. 

"Well,  JIoll,"  said  he,  "if  I  could  aiv,<._,,-  .-...  you  and  ^l,-'  in  such 
finq  spirits,  I  believe  T  should  be  the  ha'ppicst  man  living." 

"Well  husband,"  said  i*Iary.  "we  ought  both  of  us  always  to  be  in 
fine  .'spirits,  for  after  all  your  leasing  and  wilfulness,  1  don't  thiukany 
woman  ever  had  a  better  husband  than  I  have,  or  a  better  brother 
than  Anna  has." 

'•I  can  say'oniPrt'  to  that  with  all  my  heart,"  said  Anna. 


108  MASTER  WILLIAM    MITTEN. 

""Well,  done,  ladies!"  cried  the  Captain,  pretending  to  take  it  all 
as  a  joke,  "what  project  have  you  now  on  foot  ?  Where  are  the  girls 
going?  How  many  horse.s  will  they  want,  and  for  how  long?  How 
much  money  will  it  take  to  rig  them  out^  and  bear  their  expenses.  It 
ean't  be  that  either  of  the  girls  are  going  to  got  married  :  the  oldest 
is  a  little  too  young  for  that." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,    husband ;  nothing  of  the    kind.     It  just 
came  in  the  way,  and  I  spoke  out  the  honest  sentimeuts  of  my  heart." 
*^And  so  did  I,  brother,  I  assure  you." 

"Well,  ladies,  I  can  only  si»y  that  I  wish  from  the  very  bottom  of 
my  heart,  that  all  this  would  'just  come  in  the  way'  every  day.  It 
•would  make  me  the  happiest  man  in  the  United  States,  I'm  sure." 
"Brother,  have  you  answered  William's  letter  ?" 
"Oh,  yes,  long  ago,"  said  the  Captain,  looking  as  if  he  thought 
something  was  about  to  '-come  in  the  way''  that  was  not  quite  so  com- 
fortable. 

"Husband,  how  far  is  it  to  Mr.  Waddel's  ?" 
"About  sixty  miles — maybe  a  little  under  or  over." 
"Which  way  do  you  go  to  get  there,  brother  ?" 
"I  went  the  Barkesdale  Ferry  Road,  because  it  is  a  little  nearer 
than  the  upper   rgad  by  Lisbon,   Petersburg,  and  Vienna.     Look 
here,  good  women,  what  do  all  these  questions  mean?     Anna,  you 
surely  have  no  notion  of  going  to  Mr.  Waddel's,  have  you  ?" 

"Oh,  no,  not  the  most  distant  idea  of  it — at  least  till  the  weather 
becomes  milder." 

"You're  not  going  to  send  forVVilliam  to  come  home,  surely  !" 
"No,  no,  my  dear  brother,  no.     Did  you  ever  know  me  to  violate 
my  word  ?     And  if  I  were  disposed  to  do  it,  do  you  suppose  that  I 
would  do  it  stealthily?" 

"That  would  be  quite  out  of  character  with  you,  sister,  I  confess. 
But  there  is  something  so  strauge  in  this  catechising  from  you  and 
Mary,  and  it  goes  on  with  such  quizzical  looks  between  you,  right 
upon  the  heel  of  a  loving  fit,  that  T  am  constrained  to  think  that 
there  is  something  in  the  wind  that  I  am  not  to  be  suffered  to  under- 
stand." 

"How  do  you  know  husband,  but  that  we  are  paying  you  back  in 
your  own  coin  ?     It  is  fine  sport  for  you  to  trifle  with  our  curiosity." 
"I  should  expect  such  pay  from  t/cw,  but  not  from  Anna." 
"Well,  sister  Mary,  as  we  can't  please  him  cither  by  being  serious 
or  pleasant,  suppose  we  go  over  to  my  house  for  the   remainder  of  the 
cvcninir." 


MASTEK    WILLIAM    MITTEN.  109 

''Oh,  110,  my  dear  wife,  and  my  dear  sister,  don't  i^oaway  and  leave 
me  wliilo  you  are  in  such  a  pleasant  mood.  1  have  not  had  such  a 
refreshing,  for  two  years.  Stay,  and  you  may  ask  me  as  many  ques- 
tions as  you  please,  aud  I  will  answer  them  with  pleasure." 

''Stiy  a  moment,  Anna,  and  let's  try  him,"  said  Mrs.  Thompson. 
''What  is  the  given  nanro  of  the  ^mith  whom  you  stayed  vith  the 
first  night?" 

''John." 

"How  far  does  he  live  this  side  of  Washington  ?" 

"About  three  miles — perhaps  a  little  less." 

"After  you  pass  through  Washington,  what  is  the, next  town  thai 
you  come  to?' 

"Xo  town.  But  there  are  two  places  that  boar  t.ho  names  of  towns — 
or  names  which  a  traveller  would  take  for  the  names  of  .towns,  though 
there  are  not  six  houses  in  both  of  them  put  together ;  the  first  i» 
Tichoboth,  aud  the  second  is  Goshen." 

"Well,  you  have  said  your  lesson  so  well  (hat  we  will  not  examine 
you  any  more  to-night.  And  now,  sister  Anna,  he  has  been  such  a 
good  boy  that  I  think  you  ought  to  sit  down  and  spend  the  evenini.^ 
with  him." 

"I  would  with  all  my  heart,  sister,  if  I  could,  but  business  that 
must  be  attended  to-night,  calls  nie  homo.  Kemcmber.  I  have 
been  here  nearly  all  the  afternoon." 

"Well,  if  you  must  go,  I'll  go  with  you." 

"What  in  (he  mischief  can  these  women  be  af*^er  ?"  mused  the 
Captain  as  they  left  the  house.  "If  Waddci  was  a  widower,  and 
didn't  whip  so  joyfully.  T  should  think  that  Anna  was  going  over  to 
lay  siege  to  his  heart."  The  Captain  being  fatigucl,  retired  early  to 
rest. 

As  soon  as  the  ladicis  entered  the  house,  Tom  was  summoned. 

"Tom,"  .said  Mrs.  Mitten,  "I  want  you  to  take  old  Ball  and  the 
cart,  and  carry  those  boxes  to  your  mas'  Williani.  He  is  going  to 
school  to  Mr.  Waddel,  in  Willingtou,  over  in  South  Carolina — is  Ball 
shod?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,  new  shod,  day  before  yesterday." 

"I  want  you  to  start  at  the  peep  of  day  in  the  morning.  And  now 
listen  well  to  what  I'm  going  to  tell  you.*  You  take  the  Wasbingtori 
road,  the  road  by  .Mr.  Ellison's,  and  keep  it  till  you  come  to  3Ir.  John 
Smith's.  He  lives  only  two  or  three  miles  this  .«idc  of  Wasliington. 
There  you  will  stop  ft-r  the  night,  no  matter  what  time  you  get  there. 


110  MASTER    AVILLIAM    MITTEK 

TLe  ijcxt  morning,  make  an  earl}'  start,  and  wlien  you  get  to  Wash- 
ington, enquire  for  Rehoboth " 

"Stop,  Mi.s'ess — call  that  name  'gin !" 

''Echohoih—Rii-ho-hoth." 

"I got  him  !"  said  Tom,  with  one  ear  up  and  the  otRer  down,  his 
eyes  looking  on  the  ground  six  feet  oif,  and  listening,  most  vigor- 
ously. 

"When  you  get  to  Rehoboth,  inquire  for  Goshen,  and  when  you 
get  to  Goshen,  enquire  for  Barkesdale's  ferry;  and  when  you  get  to 
Barkesdale's  ferry,  enquire  for  Willington,  or  Mr.  W^addel's  either ; 
and  when  you  get  to  Willington,  ask  for  Mr.  Newby's,  where  you  will 
find  W'illiam — I  believe  that's  all  right,  isn't  it,  Mary?" 

"Exactly." 

"Here  is  your  pass,  Tom,  in  which  I  have  stated  where  you  are 
going,  and  for  what.  If  you  get  out  of  the  way,  show  that  to  any 
one  you  meet,  and  bo  will  set  you  right.  And  here  are  ten  dollars; 
take  five  to  beisryour  expenses,  and  give  the  other  five,  with  this  let- 
tor,  to  William.  Now,  do  be  particular,  Tom,  for  if  anything  goes 
wrong,  we  shall  never  hear  the  last  of  it.  I  want  you  to  get  back 
before  brother  David  finds  out  that  you  have  ever  been." 

"I'll  go  it,  mis'ess,  like  a  streak  o'  lightnin'." 

Mrs.  Thompson  returned  home  and  slipped  into  bed  without  wak- 
ing her  husband.  The  next  morning  he  watched  her  very  closely, 
but  could  discover  nothing  unusual  in  her  conduct  or  conversation. 
xYfter  breakfast,  he  re-visited  "his  farm,  and  returned  to  dinner.  Hav- 
ing dined,  he  sauntered  down  to  the  business  part  of  the  town,  where 
he  joined  a  group  of  gentlemen  in  front  of  Mr.  West's  store.  They 
gave  him  a  somewhat  distant>  salutation,  and  eyed  him  with  rather  a 
solemn  interest,  saying  nothing. 

"Why,  gentlemen,"  said  the  Cajtain,  "  what  makes  you  all  look  so 
serious  V 

"Captain,"  said  '3Ir.  W^est,  "have  joii  heard  from  your  nephew, 
W^illiam  Mitten,  lately ':"' 

"Not  very,"  .-md  the  Captain,  turning  pale.  "Has  anything  bap- 
peued  to  him?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of,  but  liis  mother  asked  me  the  way  to  IMr. 
Waddel's  yesterday,  with  some  anxiety,  atid  I  didn't  know  but  that 
something  had  happened." 

"She  asked  me,  too,"  said  a  second.  "And  me,  too,"  said  a  third. 
"And  me,"  said  a  fourth. 

"Why,"  resumed  the  Captain,  "it  is    the- strangest   thing  in  the 


MASTER    WILLIAM   illTTEX.  Ill 

world  !  i^othing  can  be  the  matter  ■nitli  Willialii,  fur  his  mother  was 
at  my  houhc  last  night,  and  1  hardlj-  ever  saw  lier  more  cheerful  than 
she  was,  all  the  time  she  stayed.  And,  vh.at  was  unaccountable  to 
me,  then,  and  is  more  so  now,  she  and  my  wife  were  pumping  meal[ 
the  time  about  the  road  to  Waddel's." 

'I  thought  it  very  straftge/'^ntinued  West,  "that  she  did  not  go 
to  you  for  information." 

"I  was  not  at  home  in  the  forenoon." 

**0h,  well,  that  accounts  for  it." 

It  was  sheer  good  lack  on  Mrs.  Mitten's  side  that  none  of  the  par- 
ty knew  but  that  she  had  gone  to  consult  her  brother  in  the  first  in- 
stance. While  the  whole  company  were  standing  amazed,  Mr.  Hough- 
ton came  up,  smiling — 

"Captain,"  said  he,  "as  I  came  into  town  this  morning,  I  met  jour 
sister's  Tom  about  two  miles  this  side  of  my  liouse,  in  a  cart,  with 
two  boxes  in  it,  and  a!)out  two  feeds  of  fodder  and  corn.  Why, 
Tom,  said  I,  "where  are  you  going'/" 

"I'm  gwinn,"  says  ho,  -'to  Mr.  Wodden's,  wIki  kecjxs  school  at  Mr. 
Williston's,  in  Car'iiuu-" 

"Well,"  said  I,  "Tom,  you'll  never  get  to  Car'lina  this  way,  till  you 
pass  through  Augusta." 

"Why,  ain't  this  the  Wa.shington  road,  Mas'  Joish  V  said  he. 

"No,  Tom,  you  left  the  Washington  road  three  or  four  miles 
back." 

"Emp-e-e-eh  1"  says  Tom.  "My  .sign  fail  me  this  time,  that's  sar- 
tain!" 

"What  sign,  Tom  ?" 

"Why,  you  see,  Mas'  Josh,  when  I  come  to  the  fork  of  a  road,  and 
don't  know  which  tp  take,  I  spit  in  my  hand  and  hit  'urn  with  my 
fore-finger,  .so ;  and  which  way  the  mos'  spit  fly,  I  take  that  road. 
But,  bless  the  Lor',  the  spit  cheat  nie  this  time,  that's  sartaiu." 

A  poal  of  laughter  followed  this  narrative,  loud  enough  to  be  heard 
over  half  the  village;  but  the  Cajjtain  did  not  swell  it  much.  He 
disguisedhis  wrath,  however,  2»retty  well.  •  • 

"1  put  him  in  the  right  road  again,"  continued  Mr.  Houghton, 
"and  i'or  fear  the  spit  wouldn't  fly  right,  I  advised  him  of  all  the 
forks  between  my  road  and  the  Washington  road." 

"The  myr<tcry  is  e.xplained,"  said  the  Captain.  "Anna  has  sent  off 
a  cart  lomi  of  comforts  to  her  sou,  which  she  did  not  wish  me  to  know 
about;  and  now  I'll  have  to  go  after  Tom,  ior  he'll  never  find  the  way 
toWaddcl'.s  during  ash  and  o.'>k." 


112  MASTER   WILLIAM   MIITEN. 

"What  did  he  mean,  Captain, ".inquired  Houghton,  "by  Waddel's 
keeping  school  at  Mr.   WiUhton's  ?" 

"The  place  where  Waddel's  school  is  kept,  is  called  WilHngfon, 
and  Tom  has  mistaken  it  for  a  man's  name." 

As  the  Captain's  feelings  were  not  in  tune  with  those  of  the  com- 
pany, and  as  every  question  made  the  discord  more  and  more  grating 
to  his  refined  sensibilities,  he  concluded  to  retire ;  so  putting  on  an 
air  of  perfect  indifference  to  the  whole  matter,  and  saying  carelessly 
"I  must  see  Anna,"  he  withdrew  very  leisurely;  but  one  who  saw 
how  his  face  reddened,  and  his  pace  quickened  with  every  step  towards 
his  sisters  after  he  turned  the  nearest  corner,  might  with  truth  have 
exclaimed,  "The  ma-an's  mad  !" 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Captain  Thompson  had  ample  cooling  time  before  he  reached  his 
sister's  residence,  for  it  was  full  two  hundred  yards  frora  Mr.  West's 
store;  "but  contrary  to  the  law  in  such  case  made  and  provided,"  in- 
stead of  cooling,  he  got  hotter  and  hotter  with  every  step  of  the  way. 
Business*  at  home  demanded  his  attention  just  at  this  time — the 
weather  was  still  cold,  and  might  in  a  day  or  two  turn  much  colder. 
W^hen  and  where  he  should  overtake  Tom,  and  how  he  should  dispose 
of  him  and  his  load  when  overtaken,  were  perplexing  considerations. 
Then  his  sister's  unconquerable  indulgence  of  her  son,  with  its  proba- 
ble consequences,  coming  upon  the  raw  places  of  his  mind  which  it  had 
alread}^  produced,  was  quite  irritating.  Nor  was  he  entirely  forget- 
ful of  the  fun  of  the  village  already  enjoyed  at  his  expense,  and  like- 
ly to  be  renewed  ou  his  return.  All  tbese  things  pressing  upon  a 
mind  naturally  excitable,  were  not  calculated  to  lull  it  into  repose. 
The  reader  therefore  will  not  be  surprised  to  leai'n  that  they  so  com- 
pletely absorbed  the  Captain's  attention,  that  he  became  wholly  for- 
getful of  the  claims  of  dignity,  and  "the  poetry  of  motion,"  and  that 
he  reached  his  sister's  steps  in  a  palpable  trot. 

As  soon  as  his  sister  saw  him  she  showed  signs  of  great  alarm,  for 
she  observed  that  he  was  in  a  state  of  very  unusual  excitement.  Her 
alarms  had  a  good  effect  upon  tbe  Captain;  they  reduced  his  feelings 
instantly  to  a  little  above  temperate. 

"What,"  said  he,  "was  in  thoee  boxes  you  sent  off  by  Tom,  this 
morning  ?" 

"One  contained  some  clothi:ig  for  William,  and — r-" 

"More  finery,  I  suppose  !" 

"No,  not  a  stitch  of  finery." 

"What  then?" 


MASTER   WILLIAM    MIITEN".  113 

"Two  suits  of  coarse  negro  cloth,  (I  may  call  it)  some  cotton 
homespun  shirts,  and  a  few  home-knit  stockings." 

This  was  refreshinji  to  the  Captain.  "Well,  I  rejoice,"  continued 
he,  "that  your  love  for  your  boy  is  beginning  to  show  itself  in  (he 
right  W£fy  at  last.     And  what  was  in  the  other  box  V 

"Some  refreshments " 

"More  cakes,  raisins,  almonds,  sugar-pums,  &c.,  etc.,  of  course  ?" 

"No,  not  a  single  one  of  either." 

"What  then? 

She  named  the  contents  of  the  box. 

"Well,  if  he  must  be  crammed,  better  this- than  the  first  lot.  Now 
I've  got  to  pack  off  after  that  fool  negro,  prcsised  as  I  am  with  busi- 
ness, just  at  this  time;  for  he'll  never  find  the  way  to  Waddel's 
while  the  world  stands " 

"Brother,  I  am  sure  you  need  not  take  upon  yourself  that  trouble. 
Tom  is  a  very  intelligent  negro " 

"Humph!' 

" And  I  have  no  doubt   but  that  he  will  go  Btraight  to    Mr. 

Waddel's  without  a  blunder.  I  give  him  such  particular  directions 
that  he  can't  miss  the  way " 

"J'bii  gave  him  directions  !  Why,  there  never  was  a  woman — 
a  toicji  woman — on  the  face  of  the  earth,  who  could  find  the  way  to 
a  house  fifteen  miles  from  her  own.  after  going  to  it  twenty  timesj 
and  tliere  never  was  one  who  could  direct  Solomon  to  a  place  ten 
miles  off,  $6  that  he  could  find  it ;  and  here  you've  sent  off  a  stupid 
jackass  of  a  negro  to  go  sixty  miles  under  your  directions,  and  to  a 
place  that  you've  never  been  to  yourself!'' 

"Well,  if  he  doesn't  find  the  way,  it  will  be  all  your  fault " 

"How  the  devil  will  it  be  my  fault?" 

"I  got  the  directions  from  you,  and  I  gave  them  to  Tom  just  pre- 
cisely as  I  received  them  from  you,  and  sister  Mary  will  prove  it." 

"I  didn't  pretend  to  go  into  the  details,  for  I  did  not  know  what 
you  and  Mary  were  fishing  for;  and  if  I  had  given  them,  there  is 
not  a  Tom  in  the  world  that  could  have  followed  thenj." 

"I  think,  brother,  you  underrate  the  negro  character,  as  you  arc 
too  apt  to  do  with  all  character,  except  that  of  the  'lords  of  creation.' 
I  must  think  that  there  is  a  little  sense  in  the  world  that  duos  not 
belong  to  them.     Perhnps,  however,  I  atu  mistaken." 

"Well,  what  directions  did  you  give  Tom  '!' 

She  repeated  them. 

"And  you  think  Tom  can't  miss  the  way  under  thopc  diroctions  ?" 


114  MASTER    WILLIAM    MITTEN. 

a  "I  am  sure  he  will  not,  for  I  have   proved  him  to  be  uncommonly 
shrewd  at  finding  roads." 

''Well,  he  did  not  get  ten  miles  from  town  before  he  got  lost — 
took  the  Augusta  road,  and  told  Joshua  Houghton  that  he  was  going 
to  Mr.  Wodden's  who  kept  school  at  Mr.  "Williston's,  in  Carolina !" 
'  "Oh!  Mr.  Houghton  must  have  misunderstood  him.  He  couldn't 
have  niiscalled  Mr.  Waddel's  name,  for  it  has  been  repeated  in  his 
hearing  over  and  over,  and  over  again.  Isn't  Burke's  Meeting-house 
on  the  Yv'ashington  road"/". 

"Near  it." 

"And  isn't  it  more  tl»an  ten  miles  off?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  he  knows  the  way  to  Burke's  Meeting-house,  for  he  has 
taken  me  there  repeatedly." 

"Yes,  and  if  you  had  told  him  to  go  by  Burke's  Meeting-house, 
he  would  have  gone  that  far  straight,  at  least." 

''I  couldn't  have  told  him  that,  for  I  didn't  know  that  Burke's 
Meeting-house  road  and  the  Washington  road  were  the  same  my- 
self." -      . 

"I  suppose  not.  But  it  is  not  worth  while  to  stand  talking  about 
it.  I  know  that  he  will  not  find  the  way  to  Waddel's  in  a  week,  if 
ever,  and  I  must  go  after  him.  Was  old  Ball  shod  or  bare-foot 
when  he  set  out"/" 

"Newly  shod." 

"Did  you  give  him  any  money  to  bear  his  expenses  ?"  ' 
•     "I  gave  Tom  money." 

'"Bid  you  understand  me  to  ask  whether  you  gave  old'Ball  money 
to  pay  his  expenses  ?" 

The  Captain,  without  waiting  for  an  answer  to  his  last  question, 
went  home  with  his  '■'foot  doion,^'  and  of  course  his  wife  was  all  meek- 
ness and  obsequiousness.  He  did  not  speak  to  her  at  all,  but  called 
out  in  her  presence  to  Dick,  "to  have  his  horse  ready  at  the  peep  of 
day,  for  him  to  pack  off  after  Anna's  Tom." 

"Master,  is  Tom  runaway?" 

"Ask  your  mistress  there — she  can  tell  you.!' 

"Miss'ess  is  Tom — '—" 

"Go  about  your  business,  you  black  rascal,"  said  Mrs.  Thompson, 
in  an  undertone." 

"Kigh  I"  whispered  Dick,  "some  'en  wrong  here  !" 

The  Captain  fell  to  writing  letters  furiously — ^jumped  up  and  or- 
dered Dick  to  grease  the  chaise — resumed  his  pen,  and  jumped  up 


MASTEK  WILLIAM    MITTEN.  115 

af'ain  and  felt  in  bus  breeclies'  pockets — wrote  sonietiiuo,  and  jumped 
up  again  and  jerked  open  a  drawer,  looked  in  and  sllut  it  up  again — 
folded  up  a  letter  and"  commenced  another — ^jumped  up  and  ordered 
Delphy  to  get  him  some  warm  water  to  shave — wrote  again — stopped, 
punched  the  fire,  and  told  Suckey  to  tell  Dick  to  bring  in  some  wood, 
"plenty  of  it.  for  I  don't  know  that  I  shall  go  to  bed  to  night."  Wrote 
again — rose,  went  out  and  stayed  a  little  while,  and  came  in  again. 
Folded  another  letter  or  note,  and  went  to  writing  again.  "Finished, 
another  note,  and  called  for  the  water  to  shave.  Just  here,  Mrs. 
Thompson,  in  a  very  subdued  tone,  informed  hinj  that  supper  was 
ready.  It  consisted  of  tea,  biscuit,  butter,  cheese,  sliced  ham,  cold 
tongue,  and  a  few  cold  sausages.  The  Captain  took  his  seat,  and 
looked  at  them  as  if  they  were  all  laughing  at  him,  and  then  fell  to 
work  upon  them,  as  if  he  were  fighting  them  for  their  rudeness. 

"What  clothes  shall  I  put  up  for  you,  husband  V  said  Mrs.  Thomp- 
son, tenderly. 

"I  reckon  you'd  best  put  up  all  I've  got,  for  I  expect  to  wear  them 
all  out  before  I  find  Tom,  and  get  him  safely  hon^e  again.  It  will  be 
at  the  very  least,  four  days  before^  this  can  be  accomplished.  Ujwn 
this  hint  the  good  lady  .stocked  him  for  a  week. 

After  supper,  the  Captain  shaved,  went  to  the  stable  to  see  that 
old  Roan  was  in  travelling  order,  returned,  handed  thtflettcrs  to  his 
wife,  and  went  to  bed.  The  letters  were  all  left  open,  from  whicb 
the  wife  understood  prcfectly,  that  her  duty  concerning  them  was  to 
be  learned  from  their  content^s. 

And  now  having  put  the  Captain  quietly  to  bed,  we  beg  leave  to 
indulge  in  a  few  rcfiections  upon  his  conduct  towards  his  sister  and 
wife.  We  can  find  it  in  our  heart  to  palliate,  if  not  wholly  excuse 
his  gusts  of  temper  before  his  lovely  sister.  The  heat  of  his  mind 
would  not  cool,  even  in  cooling  time.  But  how  can  we  justify  him, 
in  a  direct  issue  between  them  upon  the  capacity  of  the  negro  race 
generally,  and  of  Tom,  in  particular,  for  ascribing  his  blunder  whol- 
ly to  stupidity,  when  he  knew  and  must  have  remembered,  that  ne- 
gro stupidity  had  nothing  to  do  with  it !  It  was  the  result,  as  the 
reader  has  seen,  of  a  symbolical  delusion  (if  we  may  be  allowed  the 
expression)  and  not  of  mental  imbecility.  It  was  not  in  keeping 
with  the  Captain's  usual  candor  to  suppress  this  important  fact. 

Nor  can  we  find  a  single  apology  for  the  Captain's  long  protracted 
crustiness  to  his  wife.  He  had  relieved  himself  at  his  sister's  of  his 
redundant  steam,  there  was  nothing  to  raise  it  again  on  his  way 
home,  her  playful  "  fishing  "  frolic  was  certainly  no  ofi"ence,  and  her 


116  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

meekness  in  his  presence  should  have  reduced  him  instantly  to  ten- 
derness and  kindness.  But  so  it  is  with  these  *'  lords  of  creation  ;" 
they  must  not  only  be  allowed  to  become  furious,  but  they  must  be 
allowed  to  spend  their  wrath  upon  the  dearest  object  they  have  on 
earth.  Is  it  likely  ihat  women  will  continue  to  marry  if  such  eon- 
duct  be  persisted  in  ?  And  what  is  to  become  of  the  world  when 
they  cease  to  marry  '/ 

Having  made  no  allowance  for  the  six  or  eight  miles  that  he  had 
lost  on  the  Augusta  road^  Tcra  concluded,  at  the  end  of  seventeen 
miles  from  home  that  he  must  not  be  far  distant  from  John  Smith's; 
and  that  he  might  not  pass  his  stopping  place  from  ignorance  of  its 
location,  he  determined  to  keep  himself  well  advised  of  his  ap- 
proaches to  it,  from  such  travellers  as  he  might  meet.  His  mind 
was  no  sooner  made  up  to  seek  light,  than  an  opportunity  was  af- 
forded him  in  the  person  of  one  who  entered  his  road  but  a  few 
yards  ahead  of  him. 

"  Master,"  said  he  to  the  strangfer,  "  how  far  is  it  to  Mr. 
Smith's  V 

"  Which  Smith  ?" 

''  John  Smith." 

"  Parson  John  Smith  ?" 

"Well,  I 'reckon  he's  a  Parson,  for  Mis'ess  is  a  mighty  good 
Christian,  and  she  told  me  I  must  be  sure  to  stay  at  his  house  to- 
night, any  bow,  day  or  night." 

^-  That's  the  road  to  Parson  Smith's,"  said  the  traveller,  pointing 
to  the  road  he  had  just  left.     "  It's  just  three  miles  to  his  house." 

Tom  took  the  road  and  went  on  his  way  rejoicing.  Hq  soon 
reached  the  Parson's,  and  without  introduction,'  or  question,  to  the 
good  man,  he  commenced  ungearing.  Mr.  Smith,  noticing  him  from 
bis  window,  walked  out  and  asked  him  what  he  waS  doing. 

"  Aiti't  this  Parson  Smith's  ?"  enquired  Tom. 

"Yes." 

"  Mis'ess  told  me  I  must  stay  here  any  how,  no  matter  what  time 
I  got  here." 

"  Who  is  your  Mistress,  my  boy?" 

"  Mrs.  Mitten — mighty  good  woman." 

"  I  don't  know  her — I  reckon  there's  .§om'e  mistake — Have  you 
any  paper?" 

"Yes  sir,"  said  Tom,  handing  his  pass. 

The  Paraon  read  it,  and  said,  "  Tommy,  my  boy  you've  come  out 


MASTP:R   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  117 

of  your  way.  I'm  uot  the  John  Smith  you  ai-e  seeking.  He  lives 
right  on  the  road  you  left,  just  this  side  of  Washington." 

"  Emp-e-e-e-eli !     How  fiir  is  it  Master  '/" 

*'  Wh^,  if  you  go  back  to  the  Washington  road  it  is  about  four- 
teen miles,  but  if  you'll  take  that  road  that  turns  around  the  horse 
lot,  you  will  save  near  two  miles."  Tom  took  it,  fell  again  into  the 
Washington  road  and  reached  Smith's  an  hour  or  two  in   the   night. 

The  next  morning  the  Captain  and  Tom  had  an  even  start ;  they 
both  left  their  respective  stations  as  soon  as  they  could  see  to  drive. 
As  it  was  next  to  impossible  for  Tom  to  miss  his  way  after  being  set 
right  by  Houghton,  until  he  passed  little  River,  the  Captain  made 
no  inquiries  for  him  up  to  this  point,  but  employed  himself  in  a 
close  look-out  for  the  tracks  of  the  cart  wheels,  and  of  old  Ball. 
Every  now  and  then  he  would  espy  traces  of  a  two  wheeled  vehicle, 
drawn  oy  a  new-shod  horse,  which  he  felt  pretty  sure  was  the  equip- 
age he  was  in  pursuit  of;  but  still  he  was  far  from  certainty  upon 
this  head.  He  stopped  at  the  first  house  he  came  to  after  he  passed 
the  river,  and  enquired  whether  a  negro,  driving  a  large  bald-faced 
sorrel,  in  a  blue  cart,  with  two  boxes  in  it,  had  passed  that  way. 
"  Yes,"' said  the  man  whom  he  accosted,  "I  met  him  yesterday  ao 
the  forks  of  the  rdad  up  here,  axing  for  Parson  ^^mith's,  and  I  put 
him  in  the  road  to  the  Parson's." 

"  Par.'ion  Smith  !  who  the  devil  made  him  a  parson  ?  A  mouth 
or  two  ago,  he  was  one  of  the  profanest  men  I  ever  saw." 

"  You  don't  know  the  man,  sir.  Brother  Smith  is  one  of  the  most 
rcligiousist  men  in  all  this  country." 

"What  I  John  Smith,  just  this  side  of  Washington  V 

"  Oh  -no,  not  him  !  I\irsoH  Smith, '  wbo  lives  over  here  by  Be- 
thesda  Meeting  Housp." 

Here  the  Captain,  contrary  to  his  habit,  let  fall  a  very  bad  word 
against  Tom,  and  proceeded  : 

"What  could  have  put  it  into  the  head  of  that  addled-brained 
goose  to  quit  the^plain  beatdu  road  and  run  off  into  by-ways  to  hunt 
up  Parsons  and  Meeting-houses  I" 

"  Stranger,  I  don't  know  but  that  I  am  to  blame  for  that.  He 
axed  lor  John  Smith ;  I  axed  him  if  he  meant  Parson  John  Smith  ; 
and  he  said  he  reckoned  ho  was  a  Parson,  for  his  Mistress  was  a 
mighty  good  woman,  and  told  him  he  must  ptay  all  night '' 

"  Well,  please  direct  mc  the  way  to  Parson  Smith's." 

*'  Stranger,  I  hope  you  won't  think  hard  of  me " 

^' Oh,  no  sir,  no  I  I  don't  blame  you  the  loast  in  the  world.  Di- 
I 


118  MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN. 

rect  me  the  way  to  Parson  Smith's  if  you  please,  for  I  am  in  a  threat 
hurry." 

"  I'm  mighty  sorry  if  I  turned  him  out  of  the  way;  but  he  axed 
me " 

"  I  give  you  my  word  and  honor  I  don't  blame  you  at  all — but  I 
shall  blame  you  if  you  don't  tell  me  the  way  to  Smith's  as  you  did 
the  negro." 

"  Oh,  yes,  well  I  will  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  Go  on  till 
you  pass  a  little  old  field  to  your  left,  and  you'll  come  to  a  road  wind- 
ing round  the/?(r  edge  of  it;  take  that,  and  it  will  lead  you  straight 
to  Parson  Smith's." 

As  the  Captain  turned  oif,  the  other  continued  : 

"  Stop  one  minute  stranger  !" 

The  Captain  stopped. 

"  Have  you  ever  thought,  stransrer,  of  the  sin  of  profane  swear- 
ing?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  Captain,  cutting  up  old  Roan.  "I  never  do  it 
unless  I  am  very  angry." 

The  Captain  had  no  difiiculty  in  finding  the  road  to  Parson 
Smith's,  but  he  had  great  difficulty  in  solving  a  mystery  which  pre- 
sented itself  to  him  as  soon  as  he  reached  it.  As  the.  road  was  but 
little  traveled,  the  tracks  of  the  cart  wheels  and  of  old  Bald  re- 
mained entirely  unobliterateMl.  They  proved  to  be  the  same  that  he 
had  caught  glimpses  of  on  the  way,  and  supposed  to  be  Tom's  tra- 
cing;  but  while  they  showed  plainly  that  he  had  gone  to  the  Par- 
son's, there  was  no  sign  that  he  had  returned  to  the  direct  road  from 
the  Parson's.  This  perplexed  him  seriously,  and  made  him  wonder 
whether  Tom  had  not  gone  to  a  camp  Meeting  with  the  Parson. 
There  was  no  alternative,  so  he  determined  to  go  to  the  Parson's 
even  at  the  hazard  of  jjettinor  a  more  serious  lecture  from  him  than 
he  had  already  received  from  one  of  his  flock.  He  soon  reached 
the  house,  and  saw  a  lady  standing  in  the  door.  He  called  to  her  to 
know  "  whether  Parson  John  Smith  lived  there  ?"  The  lady  looked 
at  him  intently,  but  gave  him  no  answer.  He  repeated  the  question, 
but  still  received  no  response,  "  Why  what  upon  earth  does  the 
woman  mean  ?"  muttered  he.  "  If  there  was  a  fatal  disease  on  this 
earth  called  '  The  Woman,'  I  should  die  of  it,  to  a  dead  certainty." 
At  length  the  kind  woman  broke  silence: 

""Light  and  come  in,  and  warm  yourself." 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  madam,  I  am  not  cold,  and  am  in  a  great  hur-  ^ 
ry.     Did  a  negro  man  stop  here  with  a  cart  and  a  blaze-faced  horse^ 
yesterday  ?" 


MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN.  119 

The  lady  made  no  answer,  but  advanced  slowly  towards  him.  Coin- 
ing near  the  chaise  she  said  :  "You'll  have  to  speak  a  little  loud  ta 
me  ;  I'm  a  little  hard  of  hearing." 

"  Is  this  Parson  Smith's  ?"  asked  the  Captain  in  a  pretty  loud 
tone. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  He's  at  the  pig  pen,  sp 'tending  to  his  pigs." 

"  Did  a  negro  man  and  a  Maze-faced  horse  stop  here  yesterday  ?" 

"  You'll  have  to  speak  a  little  loud  to  me ;  I'm  a  little  hard  of 
hearing." 

The  Captain  repeated  the  question  louder. 

"  I  think  he  did." 

"  Which  way  did  he  go  ?" 

"Sir?" 

"  Which-way  did-the-negro-boy-go  ?"  bawled  the  Captain  to  the 
top  of  his  voice. 

"  Well,  I'm  not  so  deaf  as  all  that  comes  to — I  think  he  went 
round  the  lot  there." 

The  Captain  wheeled  off,  soor-i  struck  the  trail,  and  "  opened  on 
it "  loudly. 

At  the  true  John  Smith's,  he  learned  the  history  of  Tom  for  the 
preceding  night.  Smith  told  him  that  he  had  given  Tom  such  di- 
rections as  would  carry  him  on  his  way  through  Washington. 

The  Captain  pushed  on  through  the  village,  struck  the  trail  on  the 
Petersburg  road,  followed  it  for  two  miles,  and  stopped  for  the  night 
at  Mr.  Brown's.  Brown  told  him  that  Tom  had  passed  there  early 
on  the  preceding  morning,  and  that  this  was  all  the  information  he 
could  give  of  him,  except  that  he  seemed  to  be  getting  along  very 
well.  A  little  after  night-fall  another  gentleman  stopped  at  Brown'a, 
whom  the  landlord  greeted  with  all  the  cordiality  of  intimate  friend- 
ship, under  the  name  of  Col.  White.  "  Here's  a  man,"  said  Brown, 
*'  who  can  probably  tell  you  something  about  your  boy  ;  he  lives 
right  on  the  road  about  five  miles  this  side  of  Petersburg.  '•'  A 
boy,"  continued  Brown  to  White,  *'  in  a  cart,  with  a  balledsorrell 
in  it." 

"Oh  yes,"  said  White,  "  he  stopped  at  my  house  and  enquired 
for  '■  the  Ilubot,'  but  1  understood  him  and  put  him  in  the  road  to 
Rehoboth." 

At  Col.  White's  Tom  was  much  nearer  to  Doctor  Waddel's  than 
he  was  to  "  the  Ilobot ;"  but  he  bad  promised  "  to  go  like  a  streak 
of  lightning,"  and  he  was  verifying  his  pledge.  - 


120  MASTER   WILLIAM  MITTEX. 

As  his  game  had  ''doubled,"  the  Captain  determined  to  quit  the 
trail  and  push  directly  for  Rehoboth.  By  this  movement  he  had 
gained  greatly  upon  Tom;  but  not  enough  to  overtake  him  that  day. 
"We  will  not  detain  the  reader  with  further  particulars  of  the  chaise, 
suffice  it  to  say  that  about  two  hours  by  sun  on  the  third  day,  in  a 
rugged  by-way,  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  highway  leading 
from  Augusta  to  Barkesdale's  Ferry,  and  about  three  miles  from  the 
ferrv,  he  came  up  with  Tom  under  very  interesting  circumstances. 
On  a  washed  hill  side,  Tom,  as  a  classic  reader  is  reported  to  have 
said,  "  in  trying  to  avoid  Skilly  he  had  rushed  upon  Caribogus  " — 
or  (leaving  the  classics)  in  trying  to  avoid  a  deep  gully  on  the  one 
hand  he  had  run  over  a  log  on  the  other ;  and  though  he  did  not 
quite  upset  his  cart,  he  tilted  it  far  enough  to  pour  out  both  boxes 
in  the  gully.  The  top  of  one  of  the  boxes  was  so  far  jpened  by  the 
fall,  that  it  discharged  four  biscuits  and  two  crackers  in  the  gully. 
The  top  of  the  other  burst  cntiirejly.  off,  and  the  tumblers  of  pre- 
serves were  broken,  having  delivered  a  part  of  their  contents  to  the 
top  of  the  box,  part  to  the  package,  part  to  the  road,  and  having  re- 
tained a  part.  As  the  biscuit  and  crackers  vrero  too  dirty  to  be  re- 
placed, as  the  jelly  and  jam  were  irretrievably  lost  to  William,  and 
as  Tom,  from  fatigue  and  long  fasting,  was  very  hungry,  he  rightly 
conceived  that  he  could  make  no  better  use  of  them  than  to  eat 
them.  As  well  as  he  could  with  a  biscuit,  he  cleaned  the  package, 
then  the  board,  (which  happened  to  rest  bottom  upward)  then  skim- 
med the  top  off  what  was  on  the  ground,  and  topped  off  with  what 
was  left  in  the  tumblers.  As  he  did  not  observe  the  rule  of  propor- 
tion in  eating,  his  biscuit  and  crackers  gave  out  before  he  had  dis- 
patched the  last  tumbler,  and  he  was  just  wiping  it  out  with  his  fore- 
finger, and  sucking  it,  when  the  Captain  came  up  with  him. 

"  Lor  gor' a' mighty,   Mas  David!"   exclaimed   Tom,   as  the  Cap- 
tain approached  him,  ''  I  never  was  so  glad  to  see  anybody  in  all  my 
born  days.     These  people  'bout  here  been  'foolia'  me  all  day  long — " 
"  How  did  you  get  here,  you  wooly-headed  scoundrel  ?" 
"  One  man  told  me  I'd  save  three  miles  by  comin'  this  way." 
As  the  Captain  got  t4  raying  bad  words  again   early  in  the  inter- 
view, notwithstandincv  the    lecture   he   had  received,  and  as  what 
farther  passed  between  him  and  Tom  was  of  little  interest,  wo  omit  it. 
Tii-iy  were  now  but  about  six  miles  from  Willington  and  the  Captain, 
very  reluctanLly,  concluded  to  pilot  Tom  himself  for  the   remainder 
of  the  wuy.     The  idea  of  appearing  at  Willington,  with  a  cart  load 
of  provisions  for  his  nephew,  was  very  annoying;  but  the  thought 


MASTER  WIIiUAM    MITTEN.  121 

of  lugging  them  all  the  way  home  again,  and  disappointing  his  sis- 
ter, ■vras  still  more  annoying;  so  he  cho?e  the  least  painlul  alterna- 
tive. 

Things  were  righted,  and  the  two  set  out  for  the  ferry.  They 
reached  it  and  found  a  wagon  waiting  the  return  of  the  flat  from  the 
South  Carolina  side.  His  heart  leaped  at  this  good  fortune,  for  he 
knew  that  the  wagoti  could  hardly  cross  without  going  through  Wil- 
lington.  lie  was  not  disappointed.  The  wagoner  lived  but  five 
miles  from  Willington,  was  going  through  it,  and  knew  everybody 
who  lived  within  si*:  miles  of  it.  The  (Captain  took  his  name,  placed 
the  boxes  and  Mrs.  Mitten's  letter  in  his  cSarge,  offered. to  pay 
freight,  but  the  wagoner  w»uld  receive  nothing,  placed  Tom's  un- 
expended cash  (seven  dollars)  in  his  hands  for  William,  dropped  a 
line  in  pencil  to  Newhy  explaining  things,  and  set  his  face  home- 
ward rejoicing.  Nothing  of  interest  occurred  an  the  way  back. 
The  Captain's  good  fortune  prepared  h-im  for  receiving  Tom's  account 
of  his  adventures  which  were  wonderful  indeed,  and  which  Tom 
never  got  done  recountini";  during  his  life.  The  moral  oi  it,  as  drawn 
by  himself,  may  perchance  be  of  service  to  the  reader  :  "  If  I  had 
forty  thousand  niggens,  I'd  never  sen'  one  so  far  from  home  by 
he'self  'less  he  know  de  road  firs'  chop." 

The  Captain  reached  homo  early  on  the  fifth  day  from  his  depart- 
ure, lie  gave  the  particulars  of  his  trip  to  his  wife  and  sister  by 
snatches,  as  he  happened  to  be  in  the  humor,  until  they  were  all 
told.  The  fate  of  the  jelly  and  jam  was  very  provoking  to  Mrs. 
Hitten  who  was  "  sure  if  she  had  been  there,  she  could  have  saved 
some  of  it."  The  Captain  was  too  busy  to  visit  the  public  square 
for  more  than  a  week  after  his  return  ;  and  his  visits  were  very  brief 
for  more  than  a  fortnight.  But  Tom  became  for  a  long  while  a  dis- 
tinguished character  on  the  square. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  incidents  of  the  last  chapter  were,  upon  the  whole,  fortunate. 
They  cured  Mrs.  Mitten  of  sending  delicacies  to  her  son,  cured  Wil- 
liam of  his  complaints  for  many  months,  improved  his  style  when 
speaking  of  his  Preceptor,  brought  him  out  in  suitable  apparel  for 
his  place  and  associatea,  and  spruog  all  the  energies  of  his  mother  t® 
reconcile  herself  to  his  lot.  When  so  much  is  said,  the  reader  need 
not^be  told  that  Captain  Thompson  was  also  a  great  gainer  by  them. 
Things  now  went  on  more  smoothly  than  they  had  for  yeai'S.  Wil- 
liam soon  stood  a  head  and  shoulders  above  arfy  member  of  his  class. 
The  G  eorgiaus  began  to  brag  on  him,  the  Carolinians  to  emulate  him. 
He  began  to  mingle  in  the  active  sports  of  his  fellows,  to  be  cheerful, 
if  not  forward,  in  sharing  his  part  in  providing  fuel  and  making  fires. 
His  new  clothes,  to  be  sure,  did  not  quite  reach  him  before  he  "blos- 
somed," for  he  kept  the  changes  of  his  first  supply  as  long  out  of 
sight  as  possible  ;  but  he  was  far  from  being  in  full  bloom  when  "  the 
^fruits  of  home  industry  reached  him.  Immediately  upon  their  arri- 
val, he  appeared  in  the  handy  work  of  Mrs.  Thurlow  and  Mrs.  Figgs, 
and  Brace's  lips  were  ctosed  to  all  further  sarcasm  upon  his  dress. 
In  short,  he  followed  his  uncle's  advice  as  well  as  he  could,  and 
forthwith  began  to  experience  the  practical  benefits  of  it.  His  new 
clothes  "scratched  him  mightily  at  first,  but  he  had  got  use  to 
them,"  as  he  wrote  to  his  mother;  but  he  thanked  her  for  them. 
The  change  in  his  dress  was  not  much  more  remarkable  than  the 
change  iu  his  physical  constitution. 

From  a  weakly,  puny,  cowering,  retiring,  say-nothing  boy,  he  be- 
came a  muscular,  active,  sprightly,  vigorous  youth,  who  was  nearly  a 
match  for  any  of  his  age,  in  running,  jumping,  wrestling,  and  the 
active  sports  of  the  school;  and  for  loud  clamoring  at  bull-pen,  and 
town-ball,  he  had  no  superior.  There  was  but  one  South  Carolinian 
in  the  school  who  could  throw  him  down,  and  that  one  was  Andrew 
Govan  ;  there  was  not  one  in  the  school  who  could  match  him  ia 
running.  From  fifty  lips  the  exclamation  would  come  :  "  Did  you 
ever  see  a  fellow  come  out  of  the  kinks  as  Bill  Mitten  has?"  By 
the  time  it  came  to  his  turn  to  make  fires  in  the  Academy,  (one  of 
the  duties  of  every  student,)  he  was  as  prompt  and  skillful  in  this 
work  as  most  of  his  associates.  Sweeping  out  the  Academy  (anoth- 
er duty)  of  course  was  easy.  Beyond  all  this,  there  was  nothing  re- 
markable in  his  historv  until  the  annual  examination  and'exhibitioa 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  l2^ 

came  ou.  These  exercises  continued  for  several  days,  and  they  were 
attended  by  multitudes — more,  by  many,  than  usually  attend  our 
College  Commencements  in  these  days.  The  order  was  as  follows : 
First,  the  examination  of  all  the  classes;  which  was  invariably  con- 
ducted by  the  visitors,  except  when  thoy  declined"  the  task,  and  this 
rarely  occurred.  Then  speaking,  for  which  prizes  were  awarded. 
And  lastly,  the  performance  of  one  or  two  dramatic  pieces,  usually  a 
comedy  and  farce  :  but  these  were  discontinued  after  the  first  and 
only  public  exhibition  in  which  William  Mitten  took  part,  and  the 
reading  of  compositions  was  substituted  for  them.  The  speakers 
were  divided  into  three  classes,  according  to  their  age  and  advance- 
ment; the  first  class  being  composed  generally  of  the  oldest  students 
in  the  school;  the  second,  of  those  next  in  years;  and^,he  third,  of 
the  youngest,  cxcludin;;-  those  in  the  elementary  studies.  This  ar- 
rangement was  not  always  observed,  however.  ISoinctimes  the  larger 
and  less  advanced  were  put  in  the  first  class,  and  the  smaller  and  more 
advanced,  in  the  second  class.  William's  ago  flung  him  in  the  low- 
est, though  his  advancement  would  have  entitled  him  to  a  place  in 
the  second.  The  examination  approached,  and  William  wrote  press- 
ingly  to  his  mother  and  uncle  to  attend.  They  did  so,  and  reached 
Newby's  the  day  before  the  exercises  commenced.  William  recog- 
nized them  at  the  fence,  and  ran  out  to  meet  them.  Neither  of  them 
knew  him,  till  he  greeted  them,  any  more'  than  if  they  had  never 
seen  him.  His  fine  face  was  there,  a  little  tanned,  but  that  was  all 
of  William  Mitten  l^hat  was  left.  He  had  grown  like  a  weed,  and 
developed  as  we  have  said  The  Captain  looked  at  him  in  triumph — 
the  mother  in  toars.  Mr.  ■Newby  was  soon  at  the  chaise  aad  introduced 
to  Mrs.  M.  Five  or  six  ladies  were  standing  at  his  door,  observing 
the  new  comers. 

"  I  fear,  Mr.  Newby,"  said  Captain  Thompson,  "  that  you  will 
not  be  able  to  accommodate  us." 

"  Oh,  very  easy,  if  you  can  rough  it  a  little  for  a  few  days." 

"  Why,  where  will  you  put  us?     Your  house  seems  full  already." 

"  Oh,  we've  plenty  of  houses,  as  you  see." 

"  But  those  are  the  students'  houses  ;  what  are  you  going  to  do  with 
them  ?" 

"  Oh,  we  cotton  them  upon  such  occasions  as  this,  if  necessary." 

"  Cotton  them  ?" 

"  Yes ;  put  'em  all  in  one  hole  and  ram  them  tight  together.  How- 
ever, I  don't  think  that  will  be  necessary.  We've  two  large  rooms 
in  the  house,  in  one  of  which  we  will  put  the  ladies,  and  in  the  oth- 
er the  gentlemen." 


124  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN". 

''  Well,  that  will  answer  very  well,"  said  the  Capt;»in.  "Do  you 
take  eharge  of  Mrs.  Mitten,  and  William  and  Tom  and  I  will  atteud 
to  the  horses  and  baggage." 

"  Why,  this  is  a  new  horse,  Tom,"  said  William,  as  he  sprung  to 
unsaddle  a  horse  which  Tom  had  led  up.     "  Whose  is  he  ?" 

"  He's  Mas'  Davjd's.  He  say  if  you  do  well  while  he's  up  here, 
he  gwine  to  give  him  to  you.     He's  a  tip  top  hos." 

"  Well,  I've  got  him  safe,"  said  Bill.     ''  What's  his  name  V 

*'  He  name  <S'/iop  Draggum."    -(Snap  Dragon.) 

"  Here,  Tom,"  said  the  Captain,  ''take  this  trunk  in  the  house " 

''  I'll  take  it,"  uncle,  said  William. 

"  You  can't  carry  it,  my  son;  it's  pretty  heavy." 
Let  me  try  it,"  said  Bill ;  so  saying,  he  flung  it  on  his   shoulder, 
and  marched  off  with  it,  with  perfect  ease*. 

"  Look  yaa-nder  !"  exclaimed  Tom,  as  he  moved  off.  "Bless  de 
Lor',  Mas'  William  done  got  a  man  'ready." 

The  Captain  saw  him  near  the  door  with  his  burden  without  a  tot- 
ter, then  turned,  wiped  his  eyes  twice,  and  was  just  blowing  his  nose 
the  third  time,  when  William  leaped  the  fence,  to  assist  Tom  in  lead- 
ing the  horses-  to  the  borse  lot.    i. 

'•'  Why,  Bill,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  never  saw  a  boy  improve  as 
you  have  in  all  my  life." 

The  ladies  gathered  at.Mr.  Newby's  were  all  of  the  first  respectabili- 
ty. They  soon  made  Mrs.  Mitten  easy,  and  before  they  parted,  seve- 
ral of  them  and  Mrs.  Mitten  promised  to  interchange  visits  most 
certainly  "if  ever  they  cam©  our  way."     (They  never  came  our  way.) 

The  night  shut  in  and  the  woods  were  vocal  in  all  directions  with 
rehearsals  of  speeches  and  parts  of  plays.  A  very  comfortable  sup- 
per was  provided  for  the  guests,  (increased  by  several,  after  the  Cap- 
tain's arrival)  the  mattresses  were  spread,  all  laid  down,  the  gentle- 
men talked  till  twelve,  the  ladies  till  tAvo,  and  all  was  hush — save 
here  and  there  ''the  bubbling  cry  of  some  strong"  suorer  "in  his  ag- 
ony." They  were  all,  of  necessity,  up  betimes  the  next  morning, 
when  they  declared  generally  that  they  had  "had  a  most  delightful 
night's  rest."     Thus  passed  a  wonderful  night  for  Mrs.  Mitten. 

The  next  morning  exhibited  a  complete  metamorphosis  of  the  stu- 
dents. It  was  easy  now  to  distinguish  the  5ons  of  the  Patricians 
from  those  of  the  Plebs,  though  turkey-red  and  indigo-blue  predomi- 
nated largely  over  nankeen  and  gingham  still. 

From  seven  o'clock  till  nine,  people  of  all  ranks,  ages,  sexes  and 
sizes,  might  be  seei)  wending  their  way  to  the  school  house,  or  rather 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  125 

t 

to  the  area  in  front  of  it — for  the  examination  was  conducted  under 
the  statel}-  oaks  of  the  campus.  Some  of  the  first  men  of  the  two 
States  were  there.  At  nine  the  examination  commenced.  The  stu- 
dents, with  very  few  exception.?,  acquitted  ttemsclvcs  admirably.  In 
all  the  studies  of  his  class,  William  distinguished  himself.  On  this  day 
an  incident  occurred  which  was  absolutely  luxurious  to  all  who  dis- 
liked Brace.  The  reader  need  hardly  be  told  that  however  bright  in 
wit,  or  ingenious  in  teazing  Brace  might  be,  he  was  not  very  bright  ia 
his  studies.  He  was  in  one  of  the  Virgil  classes,  and  he  had  caught 
from  a  student,  given  to  spouting  poetry  aloud,  whenever  he  had  any 
in  store  to  spout,  the  four  first  lines  of  Drydcn's  translation  of  the 
second  book  of  the  iEnead.  Doctor  John  Casey  was  conducting  the 
•  examination,  flanked  on  his  right  and  left  with  an  imposing  row  of 
_  dignitaries.  "Begin,''  said  the  Doctor  to  Ned,  who  was  at  one  ex- 
treme of  the  class  in  tnorc  senses  than  one,  "at  the  second  boflk  of 
the  j3<]ncad.  and  read  the  Latin  first."  Ned  did  so  to  the  extent  of 
six  or  eight  liuos. 

"  Now  translate." 

Ned  proceeded  :  « 

'•  All  were  .nltontivo  to  tho  God-like  ui.in, 

Yv  iu'ii  from  his  lot'tv  couch  he  thu.s  becran." 

•        ■  '^ 

.  A  roar  of  laughter  bur.st  from  every  one — loudest  from  the  boys ; 
for  two  reasons,  first,  because  they  gloried  in  Brace's  mortification  ; 
and  second,  bccau.'jo  they  wished  the  company  to  understand  froTa 
this  token  that  thej  were  thoroughly  Tcrsed  in  the  poetry  of  all  lan- 
guages under  the  sun. 

*'  Give  us  the  translation  in  prose,  if  jou  please,"  said  the  Doctor. 

Ned  continued: 

"  Great  Queen,  what  you  commnrnl  me  to  relate, 
Renews  tho  sad  remembrance  of  our  fate." 

The  laugh  was  repeated,  but  the  Doctor  had  no  occasion  to  repeat 
his  request;  for  Ned  had  exhausted  his  stock  of  poetry.  His  <hbut 
was  doubly  unfortunate  ;  for  besides  exposing  him  to  ridicule,  it  left 
him  wholly  in  the  dark  as  to  how  much  of  the  Latin  his  version  had 
covered.  Sj  ho  began  his  literal  translation  two  lines  back  of  what 
he  bad  already  rendered ;  and  Dryden  would  have  been  amazed  to 
discover  how  he  had  butchered  the  Mantuan  Bard,  according  to 
Brace's  translation. 

This  day  and  the  next  were  consumed  in  like  manner.  On  the 
third  day  tho  speaking  commenced. 

A  stage   of  rough  pknk  was  erected  adjoining  the  school-bouse. 


128  MASTEE   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

On  this  sat  tfee  Judges,  of  whom  William  H.  Crawford,  John  C.  Cal- 
houn, and  William  W.  Bibb  were  three.  These  hardly  ever  failed 
to  attend  the  public  exercises  of  Dr.  Wuddel's  school.  The  two  first 
had  been  his  pupils,  and  the  reader  will  excuse  the  digression,  to 
learn  that  the  first  wife  of  the  Doctor  was  the  sister  of  the  secoad. 

In  front  of  the  stage,  large  logs  were  laid  parallel  to  each  other  on 
which  planks  were  placed  at  convenient  distances  apart,  for  seats. 
The  whole  was  covered  over  with  a  bush-arbor.  It  was  but  a  scaat 
provision  for  the  throng  tha.t  attended  upon  this  occasion ;  but  what 
provision  could  accommodate  all,  when  the  number  fell  little,  if  any, 
short  of  two  thousand  people  ?  The  ladies,  several  hundreds  in  num- 
ber, occupied  all  the  scats. 

Without  going  through  the  details  of  the  exercises,  suffice  it  to 
say  that  Mitten  took  the  premium  in  his  class  by  the  a\«'ard  of  the 
judges,  approved  of  by  every  man,  woman  and  studrnt  present  at  the 
exhibition.  He  had  a  part  in  both  the  dramatic  pieces ;  and  here 
he  acquitted  himself,  if  possible,  with  more  credit  than  in  declama- 
tion. When  Mr.  Calhoun,  with  a  few  complimentary  words,  pre- 
sented him  the  prize,  the  whole  assembly  applauded  loudly  and  cor- 
dially. One  pretty  little  girl,  beautifully  dressed,  quite  forgot  her- 
self, and  kept  on  clapping  after  everybody  else  had  done,  till  her 
mother,  laughing  most  heartily,  stopped  her.  "  Mitten,  Mitten, 
Mitten  !"  was  on  every  lip.  All  the  ladies,  old  and  young,  wanted 
to  kiss  him;  all  the  little  girls  fell  in  love  with  him.  A  thousand 
compliments  saluted  the  ear  of  Mrs.  Mitten  from  lips  that  she  knew 
not.  Through  Captain  Thomj)son,  she  had  been  made  acquainted 
with  Doctor  Waddel,  before  the  exercises  commenced,  and  through 
him,  with  most  of  the  gentlemen  who  sat  as  judges,  and  her  ac- 
quaintance was  still  farther  extended  by  the  sojourners  at  Mr.  New- 
by's;  but/now  everybody  sought  an  introduction  to  her,  and  every- 
body congratulated  her  upon  the  performance  of  her  son. 

Most  of  the  judges  waited  upon  her,  and  all  of  them  had  some- 
thing flattering  to  say  of  William,  or  to  him  in  her  presence,  for  he 
was  always  at- her  side. 

"  Master  Mitten,"  said  Mr.  Crawford,  "  I  am  proud  to  claim  you 
as  a  Georgian.  Cultivate  your  brilliant  talents  as  a  duty  and  an 
honor  to  the  State  that  gave  you  birth." 

"  Master  Mitten,"  said  Mr.  Calhoun,  "  the  United  States  have  aa 
interest  in  you ;  and  should  I  live  to  see  you  in  the  prime  of  life,  I 
shall  be  sorely  disappointed  if  I  do  not  see  you  the  admiration  of 
them  all." 


MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN.  •  127 

As  for  Captain  Thompson,  he  was  in  danger  of  going  off  by  ex- 
plosiou.  He  had  been  filling  up  with  joy,  from  the  first  sight  of 
Bill,  to  the  close  of  the  exhibition  ;  and  now  to  find  him  so  far  sur- 
passing his  most  sanguine  expectations  ia|p6vcrything,  to  see  hira 
standing  at  the  head  of  his  classes  in  scholarship,  and  declamation, 
and  ahead  of  the  whole  school  in  dAmatic  talent,  to  hoar  him  ap- 
plauded by  all,  and  specially  by  Messrs.  Crawford  and  Calhoun,  and 
(though  last  not  least,)  to  see  his  sister  almost  in  transports,  was 
really  perilous  to  the  good  Captain.  He  had  tried  to  quench  the 
volcano  that  was  in  him  with  rain;  that  is  to  say,  he  had  cried  six 
times,  twice  secretly,  and  four  times  publicly ;  but  this  gave  him 
only  momentary  relief,  l^esides,  the  fire  kept  kindling  all  the  time, 
and  he  could  not  keep  crying  all  the  time.  Whithersoever  he  cast 
his  eyes  he  saw  something  to  inflame  his  ecstacy,  and  what  would 
have  been  the  consequence  it  were  hard  to  tell,  had  not  David  Ram- 
say sauntered  near  hira  just  at  the  critical  moment — "  Why,  David, 
my  young  pilot,  how  do  you  do?"  said  the  Captain.  "  Come  here, 
my  son,  and  let  me  introduce  you  to  Mrs.  Mitten,  ray  sister,  mother 
of  William.  Anna,  this  is  David  Ramsay,  of  whom  you  heard  ml 
speak  !"  "  Hew  do  you  do,  Master  Ramsay  ?"  said  Mrs.  Mitten, 
smiling  almost  to  a  laugh.  "  I  am  very  familiar  with  your  name,  for 
ray  brother  could  talk  of  no  one  else  for  some  time  after  his  return 
from  his  first  visit  to  this  place." 

'<  I  remember  Captain  Thompson  very  well ;  but  I  cannot  call  to 
mind  anything  that  I  said  or  did  to  make  him  i-emembcr  me." 

Here  the  Captain  was  a  little  at  fault,  but  he  soon  rallied,  and  re- 
plied : 

"  It  was  your  prompt  courtesy  to  us  as  strangers,  David,  the  coin- 
cidence of  our  names,  but  most  of  all,  your  connections,  who  are 
known  to  all,  that  impressed  you  s^o  permanently  upon  my  memory. 
I  no  sooner  asked  if  Mr.  Waddel  was  at  home  than  you  answered  in 
the  affirmative,  sprang  to  the  door,  invited  me  in,  and  brought  Mr. 
Waddel  out  to  see  me.  This  was  but  common  politeness,  to  be  sure, 
but  I  nid  not  see  any  of  your  playu^tes  oflTer  to  do  the  same  thing. 
But  for  your  kindness  I  might  have  had  to  knock  long  at  the  door, 
and  sit  long  in  the  cold  parlor,  before  Mr  Waddel  would  have  come 
to  my  relief" 

This  interview  was  an  admiralile  safety-valve  to  the  Captain.  It 
set  his  thoughts  to  running  back  to  times  and  incidents,  well  calcu- 
lateci  to  relievo  him  from  over-pressure  of  ]oy. 

The  conversation  with  young  Ramsay  was  but  just  ended,  when 


128  MASTER   WILLIAM   illTTEN, 

Doctor  Hay  stepped  up  and  greeted  the  Captain  and  his  sister  with  a 
fervor  which  showed  plainly  that  time  had  not  abated  his  friendship 
for  them  in  the  least.  The  greeting  was  returned  with  equal 
warmth".  The  Doctor  expressed  his  regret  that  he  had  been  detained 
by  professional  business  at  home  until  the  last  day  of  the  exhibition  ; 
but  added,  that  he  had  been  amply  compensated  for  his  trouble  in 
coming,  by  the  rich  entertainment  he  had  just  enjoyed — ''An  en- 
tertainment, Mrs.  Mitten/'  continued  he,  "  to  which  your  son  was 
the  largest  contributor.  I  deem  myself  fortunate  in  haying  my  son 
in  the  close  connection  of  class-mate  and  room-mate  with  him." 

Mrs.  Mitten  returned  the  compliment,  by  repeating  what  she  said 
upon  hearing  that  her  son  had  fallen  into  the  same  room  and  class 
with  the  Doctor's  son,  only  changing  the  terms  of  the  compliment  so 
far  as  to  accommodate  it  to  the  Doctor's  ear. 

"And  now,'"  continued  Dr.  Hay,  "you  must  tarry  with  me  to- 
morrcfw  night  on  your  way  home.  Let  us  g)  over  to  Petersburg  this 
afternoon,  stay  there  to-night,  take  an  early  start  in  the  morning,  and 
(barring  accidents)  we  will  reach  my  house  by  dinner  time  or  a 
little  after.  There  rest  until  the  next  morning,  when,  if  I  can't 
prevail  on  you  to  stay  longer,  T  will  give  you  an  early  breakfast,  and 
set  ycu  on  your  way  in  time  to  get  home,  without  traveling  much  in 
the  heat  of  the  day." 

The  invitation  was  cordially  accepted,  and  as  soon  as  one  of  Wil- 
liam's small  trunks  could  be  packed  with  selections  from  his  wardrobe 
for  the  summer  vacation,  and  Mrs.  Mitten  could  renew  her  invitations 
and  promises  to  the  few  ladies  who  had  not  left,  and  return  hev 
thanksgiving  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Newby  for  their  kindness  to  her  son, 
and  their  hospitality  to  herself,  and  kiss  Miss  Thompson  because 
she  bore  the  family  name  and  both  knew  they  must  be  related, 
though  neither  could  tell  how,  and  give  each  of  the  house  servants  a 
quarter  of  a  dollar  apiece  for  being  willing  to  do  for  her  all  that  Tom 
did,  and  a  dollar  to  the  wash-v/oman  for  extra  services,  and  a  half 
dollar  (sent)  to  the  ostler  for  fear  that  he  might  be  disappointed  and 
her  brother  forget  him — Mrs.  Milten  was  ready  to  depart. 

While  all  this  was  transacting,  the  chaise  was  at  the  fence,  Doctor 
Hay  was  sitting  in  his  sulky,  Gilbert  was  mounted  on  hi*  father's 
horse,  Silverheels,  William  on  Snap-dragon,  and  Captain  Thompson 
at  the  door  getting  comfortable  fast. 

The  Captain  escorted  his  sister  to  the  chaise,  she  took  her  seat, 
the. Captain  took  his,  and  off  went  the  happiest  company  that  ever 
moved  from  Willington.     Nothing  of  interest  occurred  on  the  way 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  129 

to  Petersburg;  for  3Irs.  Mitten,  haviug  to  send  back  for  her  veil  just 
as  she  reached  Dr.  Wnddel's,  was  not  even  attended  with  inconve- 
nience, as  she  declared  that  she  could  not  think  of  passing  by  j\Ir. 
Waddel's  door  without  lighting  and  bidding  him  good-bye,  and 
thanking  hitn  for  his  kindness  to  her  son.  These  little  duties  con- 
sumed exactly  the  time  needful  for  recovering  the  veil.  It  gave  the 
Captain,  too,  an  opportunity  of  charging  William  and  Tom  to  notice 
well  the  road,  so  that  either  of  them  might  find.it  without  difficulty 
on  their  return.  Doctor  Hay's  servant,  Quash,  went  back- for  the 
missing  article,  and  strange  to  say,  found  it  readily.  The  dusk  of 
the  evening  found  the  company  at  Mrs.  Ragland's,  in  Petersburg. 

The  reader  will  naturally  enquire  where  the  immense  throng  which 
attended  Dr.  Waddel's  exhibitions  found  accommodation.  We  an- 
swer, at  all  the  houses  within  six  or  seven  miles  of  Willington,  and 
at  the  four  villages  of  Lisbon,  Petersburg,  A'ienna,  and  Richmond. 
The  three  first  were  tolerably  thrifty  little  villages  at  the  time  of 
which  we  are  speaking.  Petersburg  was  quite  an  active,  busy, 
commercial  little  town.  It  was  situated  in  the  fork  of  the  Savannah 
and  Broad  Rivers,  and  contained  some  eight  or  ten  stores,  with  the 
usual  supplement  of  grogshop?,  and  the  very  unusual  supplement  of 
a  billiard-table.  Notwithstanding  these  last,  the  citizens  of  the  place 
were  generally  remarkable  for  their  refinement,  respectability,  intel- 
ligence and  hospitality.  The  dwelling  houses  far  outnumbered  the 
stores  and  shops.  It  was  separated  from  Lisbon  by  Broad  Kiver, 
and  from  Vienna  by  the  Savannah.  Lisbon  we  believe  could  never 
boast  of  more  than  two  stores  and  a  groggery,  and  as  many  dwellings. 
Vienna  surpas.sed  Lisbon  in  everything,  but  exactly  how  far,  and  in 
what  we  are  not  able  to  say,  except  in  John  Glover's  house  and  store, 
which  had  no  match  in  Lisbon.  The  road  leading  to  Willington 
from  Vienna  ascended  a  hill,  about  a  mile  from  the  latter  place,  which 
was  crowned  with  Richmond.  This  town  was  very  compactly  built. 
It  consisted  of  one  dwelling  house,  one  doctor's  shop,  one  kitchen, 
one  stable,  one  corn-crib,  and  one  smoke-house.  Its  white  population 
consisted  of  Doctor  Thomas  Casey,  his  wife,  one  or  two  children,  and 
Warier  (or  Waller)  Beckh',  a  student  of  medicine. 

Neither  of  the  four  towns  surpassed  this  in  hospitality.  Doctor 
€asey'H  house  was  open  to  all,  and  his  heart  was  as  open  as  his 
house — so  was  his  wife's.  It  was  a  great  rc^^ort  of  the  beaux  and 
belles  of  the  neighboring  villages;  here  they  were  always  made  wel- 
come and  happy.  In  these  villages,  the  remotest  of  which  was  not 
over  seven  miles  from  Willington,  was  ample  entertainment  for  ail 


130  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

who  attended  tlie  Exhibition,  and  could  not  procure  it  elsewhere. 

Captain  Thompson  and  Mrs.  Mitten  spent  a  happy  night  at  Doctor 
Hay's,  and  were  at  home  the  next  day  by  five  in  the  aftornoon.  As 
they  stopped  at  Mrs.  M.'s  door,  the  Captain  inquired  of  William 
how  he  liked  Snap-dragon. 

"Oh!  I  am  delighted  with  him,  Unele.  I  think  he's  the  finest 
hprge  I  ever  saw." 

"Well;  he"s  yours,  my  son.  So  you  see  if  your  Unele  scolds  when 
you  do  ill,  he  rewards  handsomely  when  you  do  well." 

"  Oh  !  thank  you,  thank  you,  Uncle,  a  thousand  times.  You  never 
will  find  me  doinj^  ill  again,  I  promise  you.  I  am  so  glad  that  "you 
sent  me  to  3Ir.  Waudel's  I  am  so  glad  that,  you  would  not  allow  me 
to  leave  there  when  I  wanted  to — you  have  been,  you  are  a  tather  to 
me,  and  the  very  best  of  fath " 

"  Well,  that'll  do,  my  son — you  paid  me  for  him  before  I  gave  him 
to  you.'    Remember  your  pledges,  as  often  as  you  ride  him  I" 

Alas  !  CaiDtain,  where  was  your  usual  forecast  when  you  made  this 
present  ? 

CHAPTER  XVL 

The  cup  of  Mrs.  Mitten's  happiness  was  not  yet  full.  In  less 
than  a  month  after  Captain  Thompson's  return  from  Willington,  he 
embraced  religion  and  joined  the  Methodist  Church  ;  and  in  the 
course  of  a  week  his  wife  followed  his  example.  The  story  which 
he  told  at  the  first  Love  Feast  which  he  attended  after  his  conver- 
sion, is  worthy  of  being  recorded  : 

"  I  have  had,"  said  he  "  for  many  years  before  me,  a  most  beauti- 
ful example  of  the  Christian  character  in  my  dear  sister.  I  never 
could  see  but  one  fault  in  her,  and  that  was  '  a  fault  which  leaned 
to  virtue's  side  :'  too  much  indulgence  of  her  son.  She  embraced 
religipn  early  in  life;  and  often  when  I  have  seen  her  at  her  devo- 
tions, my  conscience  has  smitten  me  sorely.  But  I  always  managed 
to  silence  its  reproofs,  for  a  time  at  least.  Oh,  how  eloquent  is  the 
godly  life  of  a  sister !  Whether  because  she  was  my  sister,  that  the 
inward  monitor  would  not  forsake  me,  although  repelled  a  thousand 
times  ;  or  because  I  have  had  for  many  years  a  secret  leaning  towards 
religion,  which  prolonged  his  visits,  or  some  unknown  cause,  I  can- 
not tell ;  but  a  month  never  rolled  over  our  heads,  that  I  did  not 
observe  in  her  the  gleaming  or  broad  out-shining  of  some  heavenly 
virtue,  which  came  "  like  lightning  to  my  soul." 


MASrER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  131 

"  As  some  of  you  know,  about  a  month  ago  my  sister  dispatched 
a  servant  with  some  comforts  for  her  boj  at  school  in  South  Carolina. 
Knowint:;  that  I  would  bitterly  oppose  the  measure,  she  kept  it  se- 
cret from  me.  I  found  it  out,  however,  and  posted  off  after  the 
servant  in  a  great  rage.  The  blunders  of  the  negro  increased  my 
rage.  I  stopped  at  a  house  to  enquire  for  hiRi.  A  plain  illiterate 
man  came  out  and  informed  me  that  he  had  left  the  plain  large  road 
and  gone  off  on  a  by-way.  In  my  wrath  I  cursed  outright,  and  on 
the  trip,  I  repealed  the  sin  oftcner,  I  believe,  than  I  had  in  the 
whole  course  of  my  life  before.  As  I  turned  to  leave  the  good 
hearted  man,  '  Stranger,'  said  he  to  me,  '  have  you  ever  reflected 
upon  the  sin  of  profane  swearing  ?'  I  was  in  no  frame  of  mind  for 
reflecting  upon  any  thing,  and  in  the  worst  possible,  for  receiving 
religious  lectures  ;  but  a  flash  of  respect  for  the  good  man  came 
over  me,  which  kept  me  from  insulting  him,  and  I  replied,  that  I 
was  not  in  the  habit  of  profane  swearing."  -^ 

"  My  pursuit  ended  and  object  gained,  I  now  set  my  face  home- 
ward, and  ou  the  Way  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  reflect.  My  mind 
had  hardly  resumed  its  accustomed  tone,  when  the  question  of  my 
road-side  friend,  in  the  rude  accents  in  which  he  put  it  (for  I  havo 
not  given  it  in  his  own  terras)  forced  itself  upon  my  memory.  As- 
sociated as  it  was,  with  the  ignorance,  the  artlessness  and  innocence 
of  the  propounder,  I  smiled,  and  endeavored  to  divert  my  thoughts; 
but  the  question  would  control  them,  so  I  let  it  have' its  way  :  '  Have 
you  ever  reflected  upon  the  sin  of  profane  swearing!'  No,  honest, 
untutored  yeoman,  I  never  have  !  What  a  sin  it  is  !  Every  other 
fiin  has  something  to  plead  in  its  behalf.  The  gamester,  the  cheat, 
the  swindler,  the  thief,  the  robber,  the  pirate,  sin  in  the  hope  of 
gain.  The  assassin  for  the  gratification  of  revenge — the  drunkard 
to  appease  a  raging  thirst — the  prodigal,  for  many  gratifications. 
But  thou,  oh,  profane  swearer  !  what  have  you  to  plead  in  the  ex- 
tenuation of  thy  offence  ?  It  is  purely  gratuitous.  In  «ne  "single, 
short  imprecation,  you  embody  sins  enough  to  damn  a  world.  You 
insult  the  Almighty,  you  trifle  with  bis  Holy  Name,  you  violate  the 
law  of  reverence,  the  law  of  love,  the  law  of  humanity,  the  law  of 
peace!  You  set  God's  power  at  defiance  and  invoke  God's  power 
to  cra.sli  your  neighbor  and  your  brother  I  And  all  i'or  what? 
What  momentary  gain  do  you  derive  or  promise  yourself  from  your 
sin  of  sins  ?  Often,  most  commonly,  you  have  not  even  the  flimsey 
pltea  of  passion  to  gloss  over  your  crime.  Yuu  mingle  it  in  your 
sports,  your  revels,  your  banquets,   and  horrify  it  with  a  laugh !" 


132  MASTER   WILLIAJ[    MITTEN. 

"  You  will  cot  wonder,  brethren,  that  I  became  alarmed,  and  re- 
solved never  to  swear  another  oath  while  I  lived.  This  was  as  far 
as  I  went  at  the  time  ;  but  it  was  not  as  far  as  J.  fell ^  by  a  long,  long 
way.  Thenceforward  my  sins  were  more  constantly  and  vividly 
before  me  than  ever,  until  I  sought  the  pardon  of  them,  in  God's 
own  way,  and  as  I  believe  found  it — I  am  strongly  tempted  to  say, 
'I  know  I  found  it.'  " 

In  religion,  the  captain  was  as  he  had  been  in  every  thing  else  that  he 
undertook  :  open,  active,  liberal,  ardent,  aealous,  laborious,  untiring. 
What  some  Christians  call  a  cross.,  such  as  holding  family  prayer, 
particularly  before  strangers  of  rack,  praying  in  public,  and  speaking 
in  public  on  proper  occasions,  was  to  him  no  cross  at  all ;  and  we 
advise  those  Christians  who  cannot  perform  these  offices,  (and  there 
are  such)  not  to  dignify  them  with  the  name  of  crosses. 

Captain  Thompson  and  his  wife  led  off  a  great  revival  in  the  vil- 
lage, upon  which  Mrs.  Glib  took  occasion  to  deliver  her  theology 
very  freely. 

"  Well,  well,  well  !"  said  she  to  Mrs.  Lark,  this  is  what  you  call 
getting  religion,  is  it  ?  Sinning  all  your  life,  and  then  kneeling 
down  there  two  or  three  days  and  then  jumping  up  a  Christian  !" 

"  But,  Mrs.  Glib,"  said  Mrs.  Lark,  "  you  don't  remember  what 
they  say.  They  say  that  under  Peter's  preaching  three  thousand 
were  converted  and  joined  the  church  in  one  day." 

"  Weil,   is  old  Howell,  Peter,  or  is  old  Sherman,  Paul"/" 

"  No,  but  they  say  that  they  preach  the  same  gospel  that  Peter 
and  Paul  did^ " 

"  Oh  yes,  thei/  saj/,  they  saj/,  and  they'll  say  anything  to  get  up 
an  excitement,  and  to  scare  people.  Now  I  love  religion — realj 
genuine  religion — that  kind  of  religion  which  a  person  goes  to  work 
calmly,  soberly,  and  deliberately  to  get.  When  I  get  religion,  this 
is  the  sort  I  mean  to  get ;  but  this  wild-fire  sort  of  religion  I  don't 
believe  ia  at  all." 

"But  they  say  you  don't  get  it  when  and  as  you  want  it." 

"  They  do  !  I  should  like  to  know  how  tkey  know  what  I  can  do, 
and  what  I  can't.  Now,  mind  what  I  tell  you,  nine  out  of  ten  of 
these  flashy  converts  will  back-slide  before  the  year's  out — you  mark 
it!  You  remember  we  had  just  such  a  fuss  as  this  five  years  ago, 
and  old  Groat  and  John  Dunn  and  Sally  Nix,  and  Polly  Pines  all  got 
religion  and  were  mighty  happy  ;  and  where  are  they   now  '/" 

"  But  Mrs.  Glib,  you  must  do  them  the  justice  to  say  that  a  great 
many  more  of  them  than  that,  held  on  to  their  religion." 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN".  133 

"  Yes,  such  holding  on  as  it  was.  Holding  on  like  Sam  Strap  ; 
who  is  mighty  sanctified  all  day  Sunday,  and  slandering  people's 
children  all  the  week — saying  that  genteel  people's  children  are  lit- 
tle better  than  a  den  of  thieves.  That's  what  you  call  holding  on,  is 
it?  That's  what  you  call  religion,  is  it?  And  there's  old  Turner 
prosecuting  little  boys  for  a  little  harmless  sport — and  he  a  preacher 
at  that !  Don't  tell  me  anything  about  any  such  religion  as  that ! 
You'd  kill  yourself  laughing  if  you  could  see  my  Flora  Claudia  La- 
vinia  take  them  ofl".  Now  you  know  Mrs.  Lark,  that  I  don't  allow' 
my  children  to  make  game  of  religious  people  of  any  sort.  But  some 
nights  when  we  come  home  from  these  night  meetings,  she  beo'ins 
before  1  have  time  to  stop  her,  and  when  she  begins  I  get  in  such  a 
laughing  fit,  I  can't  stop  her.  She  takes  off  old  Howell  to  perfec- 
tion— his  very  voice,  action,  and  words — then  old  'brother'  jMcBoon'f 
praying— the  very  twang.  And  old  'sister'  McRea,  creeping  about 
among  the  mourners.  And  '  brother'  Wilson's  singing!  It  seems 
to  me  sometimes  she  will  kill  me.  I  always  reprove  her  for  it.  I 
said  to  her  last  night,  Flora,  you  naughty  girl,  you  really  must  quit 
this,  if  you  don't  T  shall  get  right  angry  with  you — they  meau  well, 
poor  things,  and  you  must  not  make  fun  of  them." 

Nine  weeks  after  this  conversation,  3Irs.  Glib  was  brought  to 
death's  door  with  the  biliou«  fever;  the  first  man  that  she  sent  for  to 
pray  for  her  was  ('aptain  Thompson;  the  second  was  "brother" 
McBoon.  The  lir.st  woman  she  asked  to  pray  for  her  was  Mrs.  Mit- 
ten, and  the  .second  was  *•  sister"  McKea — charging  every  one  of 
them,  while  they  prayed  for  her,  to  pray  for  her  children,  also,  and 
for  Flora  in  particular  She  professed  conversion  in  two  days  from 
the  date  of  the  first  prayer  that  was  put  up  in  her  behalf,  and  died. 
Flora  never  professed  conversion.  She  married,  in  three  weeks  after 
her  mother's  death,  a  worthless,  silly  fellow,  named  Curt,  who  ad- 
ministered upon  Mrs.  Glib's  estate  because  no  one  else  would,  took 
the  guardianship  of  the  boys,  because  no  one  else  would  ;  hired  a 
man  of  some  property  and  no  principle,  named  Carp,  to  go  upon  his 
bonds,  sold  out  all  the  property  of  the  estate,  except  the  negroes, 
as  soon  as  he  could,  and  moved  ofl'  with  his  security,  and  the  whole 
tribe,  white  and  black,  to.  the  frontier  of  Alabama,  to  the  great  re- 
lief and  greater  delight  of  every  body.  Nine  years  afterwards,  the 
younger  (Jlib  (Ben.)  came  back  to  the  village  to  learn  something 
about  the  estate.  To  the  amazement  of  all  who  knew  the  Aimily,  he 
was  a  decent,  pious,  but  ignorant  n)an.  PTis  .story  was  that  Curt  and 
Carp  settled  near  each  other  in  Alabama.     That  in  a  very  few  years 


134  MASTEll   WILLIAM   MJTTKK. 

after  they  got  out  there,  Carp  had  gofc  from  Curt  every  negro  that 
belonged  to  the  estate,  aud  then  moved  still  fiirther  West.  That  the 
elder  Glib  got  into  a  difficulty  with  a  gambler,  who  shot  him.  Of 
his  sister,  he  could  be  got  to  say  no  more  than  that  he  did  not  kuow 
where  she  was.  That  his  other  brother  was  thrown  from  a  horse  in 
a  quarter  race  aad  killed.  That  he  himself,  seeing  nothing  but  pov- 
erty and  ruin  and  disgrace  all  around  him,  had  sought  and  obtained 
religion.  That  as  soon  as  he  did  so,  a  good  Baptist  man  of  consider- 
able wealth  took  him  by  the  hand,  gave  him  employment  on  his 
farm,  telling  him  that  if  he  would  do  well,  he  would  give  hint 
good  wages  till  he  came  of  age,  and  then  give  him  a  little  start  iu 
the  world.  That  his  friend  had  b'J<^n  as  good  as  his  word,  and  that 
he  had  now  enough  to  live  on  comfortably j  though  he  was  not  rich. 

The  records  showed  of  what  the  cstxitc  consisted.  He  took  copies, 
went  to  the  old  family  mansion,  sauntered  round  it  for  a  time,  wept, 
and  left  the  village  forever. 

Having  gone  thus  far  with  the  Glib  family,  wo  had  as  well  dispose 
of  it  finally — it  is  replete  with  moral  Icssona.  Carp  had  played  his 
cards  adroitly  to  avoid  responsibility.  He  knew  the  character  of 
the  boys,  and  jud^^ed  that  none  of  them  would  live  long  enough  to 
call  him  to  account.  He  knew,  too,  it  v/ould  be  an  easy  matter  to 
wheedle  Curt  out  of  all  that  he  was  worth  individually  or  representa- 
tively, and  conjectured  that  as  soon  as  poverty  began  to  stare  her  iu 
the  face,  Mrs.  Curt  would  be  BoUiug  lawyers  upon  his  trail.  He 
therefore,  from  the  day  that  they  left  Georgia,  became  cxcecdinglj 
kind  and  esecedingly  attentive  to  her  ladyship.  Ho  would  often 
speak  to  her  playfully  of  her  husband's  inefficiency  and  bad  manage- 
ment— declare  that  but  for  her,  nothing  could  have  induced  him  to 
become  his  security ;  "  but  I  saw,"  said  be,  "every  body  hanging  off^ 
nobody  seemed  to  care  anything  for  you  or  your  poor  orphan  brothers; 
and  I  said  to  myself,  well,  as  for  the  boys,  they  will  soon  be  big 
enough  to  shirk  for  themselves — they  can  rough  it ;  but  what  is  to 
become  of  Mrs.  Curt  i*  1  can't  see  her  suffer,  and  I'll  be  her  friend 
if  it  costs  me  every  dollar  I  have  in  the  world." 

He  used  a  thousand  seductive  arts  to  entoil,  aud  he  fcueeeeded. 
He  loaned  money  liberally  to  Curt,  often  advising  him  in  the  pre- 
sence of  his  wife  not  to  take  it.  "  Mr.  Curt,"  he  would  say,  "  two 
per  cent,  a  month  will  ruin  you.  I  can  get  that  from  other  people, 
and,  therefore,  I  don't  like  to  loan  for  less,  and  I  wil  not  lend  it  to 
you  unless  Mrs.  Curt  says  so." 

"  How  much,"  said  Mrs.  Curt,  "  is  two  per  cent?" 

"  Two  dollars  on  every  hundred  dollars,"  said  Carp. 


MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN.  135 

'•'  Two  dollars  on  every  hundred  dollars  !  why  that  in  very  little 
indeed  !  I'd  borrow  all  the  money  ia  Alabama  at  that  price,  if  I 
could  get  it." 

"  Yiis,  Mrs.  Curt,  but  you  will  not  like  to  sec  your  negroes  under 
mortgage  to  secure  the  debt." 

"  Mortgage  I     What's  that  ?" 

"  Its  a  pledge  of  a  negro  to  secure  the  debt." 

"  Oh,  that's  nothing — surely  Mr.  Curt  can  pay  the  little  sums  that 
he  borrows  with  only  two  per  cent,  on  them." 

The  "little  sums"  ran  up  so  fast  that  in  a  few  years  every  negro 
that  Curt  had  in  his  hands  was  under  mortgage.  Not  all  for  money 
loaned,  but  for  corn,  fodder,  pork,  bacon,  and  other  things  sold  ;  and 
for  large  balances  in  horse-swaps,  carpenters'  bills  paid,  and  large 
outlays  for  Curt,  in  erecting  a  mill;  for  Mr.  Curt  having  a  fine  mill 
scat  on  his  land,  said  it  would  never  do  to  let  such  a  fine  water-power 
be  lost  ;  so  be  commenced  building  a  large  mill  when,  as  yet,  there 
was  nobody  in  the  neighborhood  to  patronize  it,  and  when  bis  brain 
wad  about  as  well  suited  to  manage  a  mill,  as  a  claw-hammer  is  to 
maul  rails  with. 

About  the  time  that  the  last  mortgage  ripened  to  maturity,  Mr. 
Carp  concluded  to  go  "and  take  a  view,  as  he  said,  of  the  Loniaiana 
country."  He  went,  and  came  back  so  delighted  with  it,  that  ho 
must  needs  move  there  forthwith.  ]5ut  he  could  not  go  until  he  col- 
lected hie  Alabama  debts.  Ciirt  and  he  came  to  a  settlement,  when 
it  was  found  that  Curt  owed  him  more  by  three  hundred  dollars  than 
the  negroes  were  worth  by  Curt's  own  valuation  ;  he  agreed,  howev- 
er, as  Curt  was  a  particular  friend,  to  take  the  negroes  at  Curt's  esti- 
mate, and  give  him  a  receipt  in  full.  Curt  felt  very  grateful  for  the 
Icindnes,^,  and  pr.niptly  signed  a  bill  of  sale  of  the  negroes,  drawn  up 
by  Carp  himself,  in  which  he  took  every  precaution  to  guard  a<Miust 
''offer  claps"  as  he  called  them,  and  which,  in  a/ter/imes  gave  a  west- 
ern lawyer  very  great  annoyance.     Here  it  is  : 

'•  Whereas,  on  settlement  this  day  made  between  myself  and  John 
Carp,  it  appears  that  I  am  in  his  debt  for  monies  advanced  to  me  on 
my  own  account,  and  also  as  administrator  of  Mrs.  Brigita  Glib,  and 
also  !is  ;^uurdian  of  the  children  of  said  Mrs.  Glib,  to  the  amount  of 
ten  thousand  dollars;  and  wherea.s,  I  did  execute  a  mortgage  to  said 
John  ..r  the  wlihin  foiirteen  negroes  tc  secure  the  said  debt,  said  ne- 
^rn(-s  not  being  wortli  by  three  hundred  dollars  as  much  as  said  debt 
at  uij  own  valuiition,  which  mortgage  is  given  up  on  my  siguin^-this 
bill  of  sal^and  whereas  said  John  did  become  my  Beeuritv  &a  admin- 


136  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

istrator,  and  guardian  aforesaid,  and  I  being  willing  to  make  him  safe 
from  any  loss  or  losses  for  becoming  my  security  as  aforesaid,  do 
make  this  bill  of  sale  for  that  purpose  also,  for  all  these  considera- 
tions I  do  sell  and  convey  to  the  said  John  the  following  negroes 
namely:"  (naming  them,  their  sizes,  sexes,  and  ages.)  "And  I 
warrant  them  to  said  John  against  all  claim  by  me  or  any  body  claim- 
ing the  same  as  heir  of  Mrs.  Glib  or  any  other  person  whatsoever, 
&c.,  &c." 

This  remarkable  bill  of  sale  Mr.  Carp  required  should  be  signed 
by  Mrs.  Curt  as  well  as  her  husband,  and  that  Curt  should  sign  it 
"for  himself  and  as  administrator  and  guardian."  Curt  expressed 
his  readiness  to  comply  with-all  these  requisitions  but  the  first.  As 
to  this  he  said,  "  he  doubted  whether  his  wife  could  be  induced  to 
sign  it."  "  Well,"  said  Carp,  ''  ask  her,  and  if  she  refuses,  all  well, 
it  will  make  no  diiference." 

Curt  went  to  her  with  downcast  looks  and  told  her  all  the  circum- 
stances. To  his  astonishment  she  expressed  her  perfect  readiness  to 
sign  it.  '-Sign  it,"  said  she,  "yes,  that  I  will.  Mr.  Carp  has  been 
so  kind  to  us,  that  I  can  refuse  him  nothing.''  The  bill  of  sale  was 
executed  to  Mr.  Carp's  wishes.  "And  now,  friend  Curt,"  said  Carp, 
"what  are  yoRgoing  to  do  with  no  help  here  ?  You'd  better  bundle 
up  and  go  with  me  to  Louisiana.  I'll  befriend  you  to  my  last  dol- 
lar." 

"  What  am  I  to  do  with  my  mill  and  my  little  household  plunder 
and  farm  ?" 

"True,"  said  Carp,  pondering — "you  can't  well  leave  them — oh, 
I'll  tell  you  how  to  manage  it.  Advertise  them  for  sale  two  months 
hence.  I'll  take  your  wife  and  child  on,  and  fix  her  up  by  the  time 
you  get  there.  When  you've  sold  out  all  but  your  best  horse,  mount 
him  and  come  on.  Sell  for  cash,  for  it  will  be  inconvenient  for  you 
to  come  back  to  collect  money.  Pity  when  I  was  selling  my  land  to 
Watson  I  did  not  think  to  put  yours  in  the  trade  too.  May  be  you 
can  sell  it  to  him  yet.  By  this  plan  you  can  come  on  with  no  trou- 
ble or  expense  hardly." 

Curt  said  he  liked  the  plan  mightily,  but  doubted  whether  his  wife 
would  agree  to  it.  It  was  submitted  to  her,  and  she  assented  to  it 
readily  ;  only  charging  her  husband  to  come  on  as  soon  as  po,ssible. 
In  four  days  after  this  interview,  Carp  and  all  his  negroes  were 
ready  to  take  the  road.  He  had  provided  a  nice  little  Jersey  for 
Mrs.  Curt  and  her  child,  and  for  fear  of  accidents,  he  nromised  to 
drive  it  himself  all  the  way   to  Louisiana.     Just  as  the  caravan  was 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN,  13? 

about  setting  out,  "  Stop,"  said  Curt,  "where  shall  I  find  you  in 
Louisiana?" 

'<  Sure  enough  !"  exclaimed  Carp,  "Now  didn't  we  like  to  make 
a  pretty  business  of  it  I  You  will  find  us  in  (7i(/t7.i7j/r/.-)'»iair  Parish, 
on  the  Sabine  river.  Here,  I'll  give  you  the  name  on  a  piece  of  pa- 
per—  Tonnafoosky  is  the  town  where  the  Post  office  is.  If  you  writfe 
before  you  hear  from  us,  direct  your  letter  to  Tomw/"os7ty  Post  of- 
five,  ChuckilurJihnaw  J^arish,  Louiaiaiui.  There,  it  is  all  written  out 
so  you  can't  miss  it."  So  saying,  the  whole  caravan  moved  forward, 
leaving  poor  Curt  in  loneliness,  wifeless,  childless,  helpless,  and-in 
money  penniless.  Carp  settled  on  Bufialo  creek,  Wilkinson  county, 
Mississippi,  where  he  and  Mrs.  Curt  lived  as  man  and  wife  for  many 
years.  Several  children  were  the  fruit  of  this  union.  Mrs.  Curt 
had  been  dead  about  three  months  when  Clib  traced  Carp  to  his 
hiding  place.  Her  death  was  awful.  When  the  Doctor  told  her 
that  she  could  not  possibly  live  more  than  twenty-four  hours,  she 
raised  a  scream  that  was  terrific.  "  Doctor,"  cried  she.  '•  I  am  ruined, 
I'm  lost.  Lost,  lost,  lost  forever!"  A  miuister*was  sent  for  and 
came.  **  You  needn't  talk  to  me,  sir — you  needn't  pray  for  me.  sir — 
I  thank  you — but  if  you  knew — oh  what  shall  I  do  ! " 

"  If  I  knew  what,  ma'am  ?     Is  it  too  bad  to  be  told " 


"  It  might  be  told,  but  telling  it  will  do  no  good  and  much  harm — 
Itisn'tji)a,s\<!C(if,  it's  7UJW— ^ycs,  it  has  been  for  year.';,  it's  now,  it's  all 
the  time."  ^ 

"  Can't  you  tell  it  to  your-  husband,  or  some  of  us  ?"  said  one  of 
the  several  ladies  at  her  bedside. 

"  He  knows  it— he  knows  all  about  it.  No,  my  hufthand  doesn't 
know  it — he's  innocent,  poor  man — yes,  he  knows  part  of  it.  but  not 
all  of  it — not  half  of  it,  not  a  quarter  of  it,  not  a  thousandth  part 
•of  it — wasn't  it  a  shame  to  treat  him  so  ?"  (another  scream.)  "  Her 
mind's  gone,"  said  one.  "No,  it  isn't !  1  know  all  that  I  am  say- 
ing—I know  you,  I  know  everybody  here.  It  isn't  anything  passed, 
I  tell  you.  It'a  note,  I'm  dying  in  it,  and  what  good  can  praying  do? 
It's  too  late  to  get  out  of  it.  If  I  were  to  get  well  I  couldn't  get 
out  of  it.  My  children  scare  me,  my  husband  scares  me,  the  ne- 
groes scare  me  ;  my  thoughts  scare  me,  everything — send  for  Mr  Carp 
here,  and  you  all  go  out  of  the  room.  Go  clean  away,  send  all  the 
children  away,  and  all  the  servants,  and  I'll  tell  him  all  about  it." 

It  was  done,  and  Carp  entered  the  room, 

"  Mr.  Carp,  see  what  you've  brought  me  to  !  I  never  would  have 
Ihought  of  it,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you^ " 


138  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

"Haven't  I  treated  you  well,  Flora ?"  "  Yes,  better  than  I  de- 
served ;  but  what  does  it  all  amount  to  ?  You've  brought  me  to  ev- 
erlasting ruin.  It  was  bad  enough  in  me  to  leave  my  poor  husbandj 
but  to  leave  him  as  we  did — with  nothing  to  live  on — to  fill  his  ears 
with  lies — to  .make  fun  of  him — to  send  him  all  over  the  country 
■hunting  for  us  !" 

"  Oh,  Flora,  don't  take  on  so  !  Try  and  compose  yourself.  Every- 
thing depends  upon  it.  Think  of  your  children  !  The  thing's  past 
and  gone  now,  and  fretting  over  it  can't  mend  it " 

"Our  children  !     Our  children  ! Look  ther«  ! Look  there! 

Mr.  Carp  !     Mr.  Carp  !     Mr.  Carp" Another  scream — and  her 

mind  was  gone.  She  lay  for  a  few  minutes  in  a  stupor,  during  which 
the  company  were  called  back.  Then  she  began  in  a  low,  calm  .tone 
of  voice:  ^ 

"  Ma  ! Ma  ! Ma,  did  you  tell  them ?  you're  scared 

'  Pray  for  Flora  !' You  laughed No No yes,  both 

In  the  Pulpit Mrs.  McKae  (a  wild  laugh  !)  Mr.  Wilson  !  (anoth- 
er) There,  its  becl  time -All  dead  but  me  !     Ben's  alive we'll 

all   meet  in    heaven He  was  so   stupid Sabine  !"     Another 

convulsive  laugh — and  she  died. 

Carp  was  asked  repeatedly  what  it  was  that  distressed  his  wife  so 
.much  in  her  last  moments.  He  said  she  had  told  him  all  about  if, 
but  that  it  was  nothing  of  any  consequehce — she  was  out  of  her 
head. 

Benjamin  Glib  soon  explained  the  mystery.  After  satisfying  him- 
self fully  that  Carp  was  in  Wilkinson,  he  went  to  a  lawyer  in  Natchex, 
and  unfolded  the  whole  history  of  his  case  from  the  death  of  his 
mother  to  Carp's  elopement  with  his  sister.  Mr.  Stark,  his  Attor- 
ney, advised  him  to  remain  in  Natchez  until  he  (Stark)  could  go  to 
Wilkinson,  and  ascertain  all  the  particulars  of  Carp's  history  from 
his  settlement  in  Mississippi  to  the  time  present.  Two  days  were 
amply  sufficient  to  assure  him  that  Glib's  story  was  true  in  every 
particular.  He  im'uiediately  took  the  preliminary  steps  necesary  to 
the  institution  of  suits  against  Carp,  in  behalf  of  both  Glib  and 
Curt's  daughter  Sarah,  now  going  under  the  name  of  Sally  Carp. 
The  child's  interests  could  not  be  secured  without  letters  of  guardian- 
ship; and  Stark  assf^ted  in  procuring  them.  He  did  not  allow  Glib 
to  apply  for  them  until  he  had  fortified  himself  with  proofs  impreg- 
nable, to  sustain  his  application.  As  soon  as  it  was  made,  all  Wood- 
ville  was  thrown  in  a  ferment.  Carp's  infamy  was  exposed,  and  the 
horrid  death  of  his  putative  wife  disposed  everybody  to  believe  it 


MASTER  WILIJAM   ATITTEN".  1;'.9 

Sarah  caused  some  difficulty  at  first,  but  as  it  was  much  more  ngreo- 
able  to  her  to  pass  for  a  Icgitimato  than  an  illetritiniate  child,  it  was 
easily  removed.  The  suits  were  instituted  and  recoveries  had  which 
swept  away  nearly  the  whole  of  Oarp's  estate.  But  we  must  not 
suppreps  the  history  of  the  bill  of  sale. 

As  Roon  as  he  was  served  with  process,  Carp  went  to  Mr.  Smith,  a 
great  Attorney  of  Woodville,  to  engage  his  services.  "Well,"  says 
Bmith,  '-  let  us  take  up  one  case  at  a  time;  what  have  you  to  say  to 
Glib'e  ease  ?" 

**  Lord  bless  your  soul,  squire,"  said  Carp,  "  I've  eot  'em  tied  so 
fast  that  they  c;in't  kick.  Turn  which  way  tliey  will,  they're  headed." 

"  Well,  Carp,  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  soy  that,  old  fellow,  for  public 
prejudice  is  very  strong  against  you." 

•'Just  look  at  that  bill  of  sale,  squire,  and  tell  me  how  they're  to 
get  out  of  that,  will  you  '(" 

Smith  read  it,  and  while  reading  it,  his  countenance  assumed 
nearly  every  variety  tf  oxpressica  that  the  humau  countenance  can 
ussumo.     When  he  had  finished— 

*' Well,"  said  he,  <'of  all  the  Bills  of  Sale  that  ever  I  laid  my 
eyes  upon,  that  beats.  If  you  had  come  to  mo  and  told  me  to  draw 
up  an  in.struraent,  in  the  form  of  a  bill  of  sale,  that  at  all  limes,  and 
in  all  Cpurts  would  be  equal  to  a  confession  of  judgment  by  j'ou,  in 
any  suit  brought  against  you,  by  any  poif-on  claiming  under  Mrs, 
Olib,  I  couldn't  have  come  within  gun-shot  of  this  for  that  purpose. 
Burn  it  up  immediately — destroy  it — what's  your  wife's  name  doing 
to  that  bill  of  sale  ?  Isn't  Flora  Curt  the  woman  you've  been  living 
with  as  your  wife  ?  But  it's  not  worth  while  to  talk  about  it — de- 
stroy it,  I  tell  you,  imracdiatcly  !" 

*'  And  then  what  title  will  1  have  to  show  for  all  these  uogrcei 
and " 

"  None;  trust  to  the  defecte  of  Glib's  title,  or  to  his  not  b?ii'gable 
to  identify  them " 

"  [3  th.it  the  be^-t  advice  that  you  can  give  me?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I'll  get  another  iawjor.  '  Stark  would  give  me  the  sam» 
advice;  I  undcr.st;ind  it !" 

"  What  do  you  mean,  yon  cheating,  swindling,  adulterous  rascal  ?" 
eaid  Smith,  moving  to  the  baek  room  with  a  stick  hunting  motion. 
Carp  was  gotic  before  his  return. 

Carp  employed  a  young  attorney  of  Woodville,  who  confirmed  his 
views  of  the  bill  of  Bale,  in  every   particular.     "There's  the  title," 


140  MASTER  WILLIAM   MIITEN. 

said  lie,  '•'■lilainly  and  distinctly  set  forth — not  simply  upon  a  (jood 
consideration,  which  would  have  been  all-sufficient,  but  also  upon  a 
valuable  consideration,  and,  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  upon  di- 
vers other  considerations.  This  title,  like  the  resistless  torrent,  is 
sustained  by  various  tributaries  from  perfectly  pure  sources.  Then 
it  is  fortified  by  a  rampart  of  truth  and  generosity  on  your  part,  Mr. 
Carp,  that  must  forever  protect  it  from  the  imputation  of  fraud.  All 
else  is  mere  surplusage.  How  such  a  profound  jurist  as  Mr,  Smith 
is,  could  have  advised  you  to  destroy  this  all  important  document,  I 
cannot  conceive,  unless  he  overlooked  that  sterling  legal  maxim: 
Utile  per  inutile  non  vitiatur. " 

Carp  was  enraptured  with  this  impromptu  display  of  legal  ability, 
rejoiced  at  his  change  of  Attornies,  and  highly  flattered  at  finding 
his  skill  in  guarding  against  "■after claps"  so  fully  avouched. 

Far  as  we  have  digressed  from  the  direct  path  of  our  narrative,  we 
are  strongly  tempted  to  follow  this  bill  of  sale  through  the  several 
Courts  in  which  it  ujade  its  appearance,  but  in  charity  to  the  reader's 
patience  we  forbear.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  as  soon  as  Stark  saw  it, 
he  took  a  copy  of  it,  served  notices  to  produce  it  in  all  the  cases,  and 
never  let  it  get  out  of  Court  until  it  had,  as  we  have  said,  turned 
over  nearly  the  whole  of  Carp's  estate  to  Glib  and  his  niece.  This 
is  but  one  of  a  thousand  instances  in  which  rascality  has  over-reach- 
ed itself,  and  been  made  subservient  to  justice. 

Glib  and  his  niece  returned  to  Alabama,  rich,  and  both  prosperep 
in  life.  Curt  was  lucky.  Watson  purc*hasedhimout  entirely,  in  less 
than  two  months  after  Carp's  departure,  at  tolerably  fair  prices,  and 
he  set  out  in  quest  of  his  wife  with  three  thousand  dollars  iu  his 
pocket.  He  had  not  gone  far  in  Louisiana  before  he  learned  that 
there  were  no  such  places  in  the  State  as  Chuckiluckimaw  and  Ton- 
nafoosky  :  so  coming  upon  a  valuable  piece  of  land,  he  purchased  it 
cheap,  and  settled  down  upon  it  with  two  negro  women,  proceeds  of 
his  surplus  funds.  His  land  grew  iu  value  and  his  negroes  in  num- 
ber, and  thus  when  he  died,  (a  little  before  his  wife,)  ho  left  a  right 
pretty  little  estate,  which  went  to  swell  the  fortune  of  his  daughter. 
It  would  have  been  lost  to  her,  but  for  a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  a 
friend  in  Georgia,  just  before  his  death,  who  three  or  four  years  af- 
terwards went  to  visit  Glib. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

As  soon  as  (kptain  Thompson  joined  Uie  Methodists,  his  sister  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  attach  herself  to  the  same  church  to  which  he  and 
his  wife  belonged. 

'•  No,  Anna,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  advise  you  a<i,ainst  it.  I  am 
sure  you  cannot  be  a  better  christian  in  the  Methodist  Church  than 
you  have  proved  yourself  to  be  in  the  Presbyterian  Church.  If  I 
can  be  as  bright  an  ornament  to  my  (^hurch,  as  you  arc  to  your^,  I 
shall  deem  myself  greatly  blessed- '" 

"  Brother,  you  greatly  over-rate  jny  piety.  I  have  a  great  many 
faults  and  weaknesses  which  your  eye  ijcvev  sees,  but  wliicli  I  see 
and  mourn  over,  and  struggle  against,  ever}-  day." 

"  I  shall  hardly  bo  convinced  of  luy  error  by  that  kind  of  proof, 
my  dear  sister.  One  brazen  sin  would  bring  your  piety  in  question 
with  me  more  than  a  hundred  faults  and  weaknesses  hidden  in  the 
heart,  and  mourned  over  and  struggled  against  every  day.  But 
enough  of  this — stay  with  your  people,  with  whom  you  have  long  held 
sweet  communion,  to  whom  you  are  endeared  by  a  thousand  ties,  and 
who  are  entitled  to  the  benefit  of  your  influence  and  example.  I  am  not 
sure  that  the  division  of  the  Church  into  sects  is  not  of  God's  ap- 
pointment. Some  good  results  from  the  division,  obviously.  It  se- 
cures the  Scriptures  from  interpolation  and  mutilation,  stimulates 
the  several  churches  to  good  works,  liberality,  generosity,  and  activi- 
ty in  the  advancement  of  the  Redeemer's  Kingdom  ;  brings  truth  to 
the  test  of  open,  fair  and  able  discussion,  guards  tiie  church  from 
new  heresies,  if  it  cannot  eradicate  old  ones,  and  eflfectually  preveut.s 
a  union  of  Church  and  State  in  this  blessed  countr}-,  at  least.  So 
much  good  does  it,  and  much  more  would  it  do,  if  each  sect  would 
practice,  as  it  should,  the  heavenly  precepts  of  love  and  charity 
taught  them  by  their  common  Head.  If  others  will  not  practice 
them  let  us  do  it,  my  dear  sister ;  and  be  assured,  if  our  example 
passes  unobserved  on  earth,  it  will  not  be  overlooked  in  Heaven." 

"  Those  are  sweet  counsels,  my  dear  brother,  and  they  have  al- 
ready banished  from  my  mind  every  thought  of  quitting  my  church. 
It  is  strange,  very  strange,  but  I  cannot  dispossess  my  mind  of  the 
thouglit  that  some  heavy  calamity  is  going  to  befall  us.  I  am  too 
happy  for  earth.  I  question  whether  there  is  this  day  a  human  be- 
ing this  side  of  Heaven  as  happy  as  I  am.     You  once  said  to  me 


142  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

sportively,  '  turu  Methodist  and  shout,'  and  now  I  could   do  it  with 
right  good  will.     T  can  liardly  keep  from  it " 

*<  And  why  should  you  wish  to  keep  from  it  ?  It  is  one  of  the 
means  which  Providence  has  appointed  for  relieving  the  overcharged 
heart,  and  I  do  not  see  wliy  it  should  be  repressed.  I  know  why  it 
is  repressftd,  very  well.  It  is  regarded  hy  most  people  as  very  un- 
dignified— only,  however,  when  most  peoj'h  ara  devoid  of  the  feel- 
ing that  provokes  it.  Let  tho  people,  dignitaries  and  all,  witness  a 
closely  contested  election  of  deep  interest;  at  one  moment  it  aeems 
to  be  going  one  way,  at  the  next  the  other,  and  thus  the  contestants 
alternately  pass  each  other,  until  they  stand  abreast  with  but  two 
vottjs  in  the  box — they  come  out  for  the  same  man.  Wbat  do  you 
see,  then,  among  the  victors  ?  One  weeps  outright  with  joy,  another 
laughs  frantically,  another  venta  the  long  suppressed  breath,  and 
smiles ;  but  all  applaud,  and  nine-tenths  raise  a  shout  that  may  be 
heard  for  miles.  There  ia  nothing  at  all  undignified  in  this!  It  is 
perfectly  natural.  Now  they  are  all  moved  by  the  same  spirit ;  but 
it  manifests  itself  in  different  ways  according  to  the  different  tem- 
peraments of  the  crowd.  I  suppose  if  a  battery  of  artillery  were 
bearing  upon  them,  and  they, were  forbidden  to  shout,  uudar  pain  of 
being  fired  upon,  they  might  suppress  it  (doubtful  if  all  would);  but 
what  would  be  thought  of  the  man  who  would  recommend  such  a 
measure,  or  any  milder  one,  to  prevent  this  honest  outburst  of  feel- 
ing? When  "General  V/ashiragton  passed  through  the  country  on  his 
Southern  tour,  he  was  met  by  multitudes  at  every  town  and  village 
at  which  he  stopped.  As  soon  as  the  throngs  caught  a  glimp.se  of  the 
approaching  hero,  they  made  the  welkin  ring  with  their  shouts.  As 
he  passed  through  the  streets,  women  waved  their  handkerchiefs, 
and  wept ;  old  soldiers  wept,  but  most  waved  their  hats,  and  shouted 
again  and  again,  loud  and  long.  He  would  have  been  regarded  as  a  Tory 
who  gave  no  outward  demonstration  of  joy  at  such  times.  The  very 
•nextdaythe.se  same  people  would  go 'to  a  Methodist  meeting,  and 
sneer  at  a  new  convert  for  shouting.  And  what  has  Washington 
done  for  any  one  of  us,  compared  with  what  Christ  has  done  for  the 
new  convert  ?  What  the  liberty  which  Wa.shington  gained  for  us, 
compared  with  *  the  lUjp.riy  wliercivitli  ^'hrtst  Jias  made  us  free  f  What 
can  we  promise  ourselves  from  this  great  Republic,  compared  with 
the  Savior's  legacy  to  the  sokliars  of  the  Cross  ?  At  His  birth  the 
angels  of  heaven  shouted.  His  second  coming  to  earth  will  be  her- 
alded by-^  shout.  At  His  triumphant  entry  into  Jerusalem,  the 
whole  multitude  of  His  disciples  shouted.     The  Pharisee  {strk-t  re- 


MASTER   WILLIAM   Ml  WEN.  143 

^j<7j'oMr::/s)  begged  him  to  rebuke  *them.  What  was  His  reply?  */ 
tell  you,  if  these  should  hold  tlip.ir  peace,  (he  stones  iconld  immediately 
cry  out.'  But  He  had  not  yet  died  for  these  disciples.  No  one  is  offend- 
ed at  a  shout  from  the  dying  Christian  !  In  the  times  of  David  and 
the  Prophets,  it  was  not  regarded  as  undignified  in  holy  men  to 
shflut.  I  used  to  laugh  at  the  shouting  ChristianB.  myself.  I  u^sed 
to  be  provoked  with  them,  until  T  learned  something  of  their  feelings, 
and  then  I  waa  very  ready  to  excuse  them.  Prom  rxmsing  I  went 
to  thinking,  and  from  thinking  to  reading  upon  the  subject;  and  the 
result  of  my  deliberations  and  research  is  what  I  have  delivered  to 
you.  Now,  do  n<->t  mi.suuderstaud  mo.  I  do  not  say  that  Christians 
ought  to  shout,  much  less  that  nhonting  is  an  infallible  test  of 
Chi'istianity ;  and  least  of  all,  that  there  are  not  juHt  as  good 
Christian.s  who  never  .•^hout,  as  there  ai'e  who  do.  1  do  not  believe 
that  there  is  a  better  shouting  Christian  in  our  Church  than  you  are  ; 
but  I  de  say  that  it  is  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that 
Christians  of  some  temperaineuts  should  shout,  if  I  understand  any- 
thing about  reliction  ;  and  that  ridicule  of  it  comes  with  ill  grace 
from  a  shouting  world,  or  a  non-ahoating  Churoh." 

*'  But  brother,  how  does  it  happen  that  there  is  shouting  in  wo 
other  Church  in  the  world  but  the  Methodist?" 

"  Just  because  the  Methodist  is,  (in  one  sense)  the  newest  church 
in  the  world.  "When  rve  join  a  church  we  as  naturally  drop  into  the 
ways  of  its  people  as  we  do  into  its  creed.  I  know  very  well  where 
they  all  began  ;  it  was  in  such  a  scene  of  excitement  and  clamor  as 
amazed  the  lookers-on,  :jnd  led  them  to  mock,  and  to  say  that  the 
converts  were  fall  of  new  wine.  But  all  churches  will,  in  process 
of  time,  conform  themselves  to  the  opinions  and  manners  of  the 
world,  just  as  far  as  they  can,  without  compromising  their  prin- 
ciples. Prudence  or  policy  may  dictate  thi.s  course — to  avoid  pci-se- 
oution,  ridicule  and  contempt,  or  to  gain  popularity,  i^cvcrdid  the 
world  show  any  mercy,  not  to  say  charity  to  religious  excitements. 
The  Methodists  have  hardly  yet  passed  the  fiery  ordeal  tliroiigh 
which  all  zealous,  .self-denying  God  serving,  world-dciying  Christians 
must  pass.  The  marks  of  violence  are  still  upon  their  humble 
meeting  houses,  and  derision  meets  them  at  all  their  services.  As 
yet,  they  have  no  church  etiquette  (if  you  will  excuse  the  term),  no 
thought,  and  very  little  knowledge,  of  the  world's  dignities;  for  they 
are  moHly  poor  and  illiterate  ;  no  idea  that  joy  should  be  disciplined, 
or  transports  suppressed.  They,  therefore,  give  the  rein  to  their 
feelings  just  as  nature  prompts  them.     They  are  happy,  very  happy, 


144  MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN. 

and  tijey  express  their  happiness  in  the  natural  v^aj,  without  fear  of 
startling  their  brethren,  offending  their  pastors,  or  provoking  sin- 
ners. But  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  our  church  will  be  exempt 
from  the  common  lot  of  churches.  With  a  penniless  Ministry,  fer- 
vid, zealous,  devout,  persecuted,  traversing  the  country  from  the 
mountains  to  the  seaboard,  and  preaching  the  Gospel  to  every  crea- 
ture, white,  black,  bond,  free,  rich,  poor,  at  their  own  doors,  it  must 
grow,  and  as  it  grows  it  will  increase  in  dignity,  science,  fine  preach- 
ing, fine  dressing,  fine  eating,>,fine  stations,  fine  circuits,  fine  music, 
fine  churches,  and  strong  roting.  Of  course,  it  will  then  become, 
especially  with  the  most  respected  office  holders  and  office  seekers, 
very  respectable.  There  will  be  religion  in  it,  sterling  religion  in 
it  still — religion  armed  for  giant  work,  and  well  employed  ;  but  there 
will  be  no  shouting  in  it,  no  fraternal  embraces  in  it,  no  out  gushing 
of  hymns  from  a  thousand  voices,  eloquent  of  the  heart's  heavenly 
inspirations,  no  '  brothering '  between  great  preachers  and  poor 
members.  Or  if  these  distinctive  features  of  primitive  Methodism 
be  not  entirely  effaced,  you  will  have  to  seek  them,  to  find  them,  in 
some  poor  brother's  circuit,  in  the  gorges  of  the  mountains,  the 
wilds  of  the  West,  or  the  negro  quarteif  of  the  rich." 

"  Verily,  brother,  you  have  said  more  in  defence  of  shouting,  than 
I  supposed  could  be  said  ;  and  most  certainly,  if  I  never  shout  my- 
self, I  shall  always,  hereafter,  look  with  the  greatest  indulgence 
upon  those  Christians  who  do." 

"  That  is  the  lesson  that  I  would  inculcate,  my  lister.  And  when 
you  learn  what  may  be  said  in  defence  of  it,  tell  me,  what  think  you 
of  that  Pastor  of  a  church  who  requested  a  good  sister  of  his  flock 
to  leave  the  church,  because,  under  his  own  glowing  description  of 
Heaven,  or  under  something  else  he  said,  that  filled  her  heart  with 
joy,  she  relieved  it  with  a  shout!  Think  of  her,  if  you  please,  per- 
chance the  holiest  of  his  charge,  retiring  from  the  house  of  worship 
— from  the  sermon  which  refreshed  her,  under  the  eye-shot  of  the 
oangregatiou,  shamed,  subdued,  depressed,  disgraced !" 

"  Oh,  my  dear  brother  !     Surely  such  a  thing  never  happened  V 

"  Surely  such  a  thing  did  happen,  if  a  credible  witness  is  to  be 
believed.  It  may  be  that  that  woman  paid  more,  for  her  means,  to 
build  the  church  from  which  she  was  ordered — paid  more,  for  her 
means,  to  support  the  Pastor  who  so  deeply  wounded  her,  than  any 
other  member  of  his  congregation.  She  never  shouted  again,  in 
his  church,  you  may  be  sure,  nor  did  any  other  one  of  his  flock ;  and 
the  consequence  was,  (I  conjecture,   not  without  some  reason),  he 


MASTER  WILLIAM  MIlTEN.  145 

had  ever  afterwards  a  very  quiet,  orderly,  Laodicean  Church.  Chari- 
ty, iny  sister  !  let  there  be  charity  auioni;  the  churches.  Instead  of 
looking  for  faults  in  each  other,  let  them  be  looking  for  what  is  good 
in  each  other,  and  let  them  reciprocally  intcrdiange  the  good,  and 
reject  the  faulty.  In  this  way,  all  might  be  improved— all  would  be 
more  endeared  to  each  other  than  they  are."' 

"  You  have  so  well  defended  shouting  among  Christians,  that  per- 
haps you  can  give  me  sonie  new  views  upou  another  usage  of  your 
church,  which  has  always  :?eemed  to  me  much  more  objecttouable 
than  shouting.  I  allude  to  your  altar  scenes  in  times  of  revival. 
Sonic  are  singing,  some  arc  talking  to  mourners,  and  tivo  or  three 
arc  praying  aloud  at  the  same  time,  and  when  to  all  this  is  added  the 
shouts  of  the  converts,  the  whole  scene  is  one  of  utter  confusion,  it 
seems  to  me.     What  can  you  say  in  defence  of  all  this?" 

"  Nothing.  It  is  not  only  indefensible,  but  it  is  positively  un- 
scriptural.  Each  and  all  of  these  exercises  are  proper  in  their 
place  ;  but  to  have  them  all  going  on  at  one  and  the  same  time  is 
little  better  than  to  set  all  the  rules  of  order,  human  and  divine,  at 
defiance.  The  honesty  of  intention  and  benevolence  of  purpose 
■with  which  it  is  done,  are  all  that  make  it  tolerable,  oven  to  the 
most  char'table  ]  but  these  arc  very  poor  excuses  for  those  who  arc 
presumed  to  have  read  Paul's  Epistles,  and  yet  encourage  such  things. 
And  here,  a  very  pertinent  illustration  of  what  I  have  just  said,  pre- 
sents itself:  If  at  revivals  iu  your  church,  your  people  would  borrow 
a  little  more  fervor  from  ours,  and  ours  in  like  circumstances  would 
borrow  a  little  more  order  and  solemnity  from  yours,  I  think  both 
would  be  improved.  Dignity,  gravity,  and  order  well  become  the 
christian  ;  but  love,  joy  and  zeal,  much  better  become  him  ;  and  if 
they  cannot  all  be  harmonized,  why,  let  the  first  give  way,  I  say,  and 
let  all  give  way  to  /ove,  if  it  be  possible  to  separate  joy  from  it !  And 
when  love  and  joy  abound  in  him,  let  him  be  indulged  in  liis  nature's 
way  of  manifesting  them,  even  to  the  interruption  of  a  sermon  for  a 
time;  and  if  the  feeling  become  general  among  the  flock,  why,  let 
the  sermon  go;  there  is  no  better  preaching,  at  times,  than  the  re- 
joicing together  of  many  happy  Christians.  These  arc  my  crude  no- 
tions, sister;  take  them  for  what  they  arc  worth." 

"  I  thank  you  for  them,  my  very  dear,  dear  brother,  and  I  am 
sure  that  they  will  be  of  service  to  me.  Oh,  how  much  happiness  I 
have  lost  from  your  delay  in  embracing  (Christianity  !" 

"Not  so  much,  perhaps,  fnmi  want,  of  my  counsels  and  religious 
opinions,  as  from  want  of  that  deference  and  respect  which  I  should 


146  MASTER  WlLLIAil   MITrKX. 

have  sliCATU  to  your  piety,  and  that  tenderness  of  address  that  I  should 
have  shown  to  a  sister.'' 

In  the  main,  things  went  on  smoothly  and  happily  in  the  two 
families,  during  the  vacation ;  hut  betbre  its  close,  both  the  (Jiiptain 
and  his  sister  had  their  quiet  a  little  disturbed  by  William's  _over 
attention  to  Snap-dragon.  It  was  a  natural  curiosity  that  prompted 
him  to  enquire  carefully  into  Snap-dragon's  capabilities,  accomplish, 
menta,  predilections,  and  tractability.  By  close  observation  and  ex- 
periment, he  discovered  that  a  little  needless  whipping  improved  him 
wonderfally — (such  the  difference  between  a  teacher  and  a  disciple.) 
It  made  him  move  airily,  and  infused  life,  grace  and  activity  into 
both  his  extremities;  that  he  could  trot  eight  miles  aij  hour — that  he 
could  heat  Billy  Figg's  Nicktail,  Billy  Pine's  Catham,  and  Bob 
Maston's  Flying  Nelly  easily;  that  he  stood  the  firing  of  a  gun  on 
him  very  well ;  that  he  could  clear  a  six-rail  fence  at  a  leap ;  that 
bv  tickling  him  in  a  particular  way  in  the  flank  (which  ho  called 
the  "  grabble-tickle  ")  he  could  make  him  kick  amusingly,  that  by 
applying  the  "  grabble-tickle  "  to  his  back-bone,  just  behind  the 
saddle,  ho  could  carry  him  through  a  variety,  of  most  interesting 
evohitions — tail-switching,  warping,  biting,  (backwards,  at  nothing,) 
Dolka-dancing,  and  furious  kicking.  One  thing  he  taught  him  which 
was  uei'fectly  original,  and  that  was  to -.stop  at  the  cluck  or  cliirjs, 
and- go  at  the  word  "  ico  !"  To  teach  l^lm  oil  these  accomplishments 
Yv'illiara  had  to  devote  nearly  his  whole  time  to  him.  He  had  to* 
jide  him  iar  and  near ;  and  in  so  doing  it  was  just  as  well  to  call 
And  see  all  the  planters  within  seven  miles  of  the  village,  and  rest 
awhile  with  them,  and  entertain  them  with  all  the  wonders  of  Doc- 
•tor  Waddel's  school,  as  to  ride  that  far  and  return  without  dismount- 
ing. Every  gathering  in  the  county  he  was  cert^dn  to  attend;  by 
means  whereof  he  had  a  fine  opportunity  of  .studying  human  nature, 
in  some  of  its  most  interesting  aspects.  He  saw  how  petty  elections 
were  conducted — how  electioneering  wrus  carried  on — how  much 
rum  it  took  to  elect  a  Captain  and  a  Justice  of  the  Peace.  He 
saw  justice  administered  by  magistrates  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  and 
heard  stiff  quarrels  between  them  and  the  suitors — he  saw  card 
playing  in  its  most  unpretending  humility  and  simplicity,  to-wit, 
by  a  couple  of  the  sovereignii/,  seated  cross  logged  on  the  ground, 
with  a  dirty  cotton  handkerchief  between  them  for  a  table,  and 
a  half  deck  of  dirtier  cards.  (Here  was  tfie  introduction  of 
'^  squatter  sovereignty^'  into  the  country;  but  who  could  have  sup- 
posed that  it  would  ever  make  such  a  fuss  in  the  world  as  it  has 


MASrER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  147 

made  !)  He  saw  cock-fights  occasionally,  dog-figlity  often,  and  ruen- 
fights  regularly — now  and.  then  he  was  entertained  with  a  quarter 
race  and  a  foot  race — upon  one  occasion  he  took  up  a  banter  of  **  the 
universal  world"  for  a  foot  race,  by  a  youth  both  older  and  larger 
than  himself,  and  gained  the  victory  handsomely.  His  competitor 
said,  "  if  he  couldn't  beat  him  a  running,  he  could  whip  him." 
Bill  "  pitched  into  him,"  as  the  saying  is,  without  a  parley,  and 
flogged  him,  beautifully,  and  to  the  delight  and  admiration  of  every- 
body, who  thought  it  mean  in  him  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  a  boy  who 
had  fairly  beaten  him,  just  from  shame  of  his  defeat.  These  feats 
gave  William  great  renown  in  the  county.  I'erhaps  no  youth  in  the 
land  ever  made  greater  progress  in  ■*  the  study  of  human  nature  " 
than  William  did  in  the  sh6rt  space  of  two  months.  But  without 
Snap-dragon,  where  would  he  have  been  ?  Confined  to  the  darkness 
of  his  own  village  !  And  yk'hoever  heard  of  any  human  nature  in  a 
village,  save  at  Court  times,  general  elections,  and  general  parades? 
The  Captain  often  heard  of  his  progress,  and  often  couu-scllcd  him. 
"  William,"  he  would  say,  "  I  fear  I  committed  a  great  error  in  giv- 
ing you  th;:t  horic ;  T  am  sure  I  did.  It  was  one  of  the  most  im- 
prudent acts  of  my  life." 

"  Why,  uncle  ?" 

'^  For  ninny  reasons.  Ho  takes  up  all  your  time.  *I  never  see  a 
book  in  your  hand  ;  you  have  hardly  attended  a  religious  meeting, 
except  on  Sunday,  since  the  vacation  commenced.  You  are  too 
young  to  have  control  of  a  horse.  He  is  a  spirited  horse;  and  if  not 
managed  with  care  he  may  break  your  neck — " 

"  Uncle,  he  can't  th-  ow  me  to  save  his  life." 

"  I'm  glad  to  her.r  that;  my  main  design  in  giving  him  to  you, 
was  to  make  yon  a  good  horseman ;  but  he  may  run  away  with  you, 
carry  you  under  the  limb  of  a  tree,  and  knock  your  brains  out.  If 
you  will  be  careful  with  him,  there  is  no  danger,  for  I  know  him  to 
be  a  very  gentlfc  horse,  though  spirited — but  youths  of  your  age  are 
so  thoughtless.  I  hardly  ever  see  you  in  the  day  time  ;  where  do 
you  keep  yourself}'" 

"Just  riding  about  in  the  country,  Uncle." 

"  But  sometimes  you  re  gone  the  live  long  day,  and  surely  you 
arc  nut  riding  all  the  time  without  your  meals  ?" 

"  Oh  no,  sir  I  soaietiuics  I  uko  dinner  at  Mr.  Love's,  sometimes 
at  Mr.  Tod's,  souiciiiuos  ut  Squire  3Iatlo.xes,  sometimes  at  Mr. 
White's,  and  Curtis  King's " 


148  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

"Why,  William,   my  son,  you  ought  not  to  visit  people's  houses 

in  that  way " 

'*  TTncle,  they  always  tell  me  they  are  glad  to  see  me,  and  always 
beg  me   to  come   and  see  them  again.'' 

"  To  be  sure  they  do;  but  because  they  are  kind,  you  should  not 
tax  their  hospitality  all  the  time.  At  times,  I  am  sure  you  must  fall 
upon  them  very  unseasonably,  and  give  them  no  little  inconvenience. 
When  they  see  you  in  town  here,  and  ask  you  to  come  and  see  them, 
why,  tlien  go  ;  but  don't  thrust  yourself  upon  them  at  all  hours,  un- 
invited. 

■'  I'll  obey  you  uncle." 

Again  the  Captain  would  renew  his  complaints  and  advice  : 
"■  William,  your  mother  is  very  uneasy  about  you.  She  says  you 
constantly  come  home  charged  with  news  from  all  the  gatherings  in 
the  county.  Surely,  you  don't  frequent  ^Uch  places?  What  interest 
can  you  take  in  them  ?  What  do  you  promise  yourself  from  such 
resorts?  I  charge  you  under  pain  of  my  sore  displeasure  to  abandon 
them." 

"I  will  do  BO,  uncle." 

W^illiam's  victories  happened  to  be  reported  to  the  Captain  by  Mr. 
Moore,  in  the  presence  of  William,  and  in  the  way  of  congratulation 
to  him  ! 

"Why,  William  I"  exclaimed  the  Captain,  "is  it  possible  that  you 

liave  been  running  foot  races  and  fighting '' 

"  Oh,  don't  blame  him,"  said  ]Mr.  Moore;  "I  supposed  you  knew 
all  about  it,  since  it  is  talked  about  everywhere.  But  dou't  blame 
William,  for  he  never  did  a  better  thing  in  all  his  life,  and  never  will 
do  a  better  while  he  lives.  He  was  at  the  Court,  at  old  man  Haral- 
son's, and  there  was  an  uneornmonly  large  gathering  for  the  occasion. 
There  vas  a  fellow  there,  a  forward,  noisy  chap,  named  Jake  Black, 
who  was  cutting  up  high  shines,  He  said  he  could  beat  anything 
of  his  weight  and  inches  in  the  universal  world  at  a  foot  race.  '  I 
can  beat  you,'  said  William.  *  You  !'  says  Black,  '  I  can  run  round 
you  three  times  in  fifty  yards  and  then  beat  you.'  '  Well,'  says 
William,  •  suppose  you  try  it.'  The  match  was  made  up,  a  hundred 
yards  were  stepped  off,  and  all  on  the  Court  ground  went  to  see 
the  race.  At  the  word  they  started,  and  William  beat  him  a  clear 
light  of  at  least  seven  yards.  There  was  a  general  shout  as  they 
came  in,  and  many  had  something  digging  to  say  to  Black.  One 
told  him  he  oughtn't  to  run  against  anything  but  grub-worms  and 
terrapins.     Another  told  him  his  belly  didn't  give  his  legs  fair  play. 


MASTER  WILUAM  MITTEN.  149 

'  I  saw  your  thighs,'  says  he  'hit  yoar  belly  every  step  you  made. 
Tf  you  can  only  manaj^e  to  hook  up  your  belly  just  three  quarters  of 
an  inch  before  you  run,  so  as  to  give  your  legs  full  sweep,  you'd  beat 
Bill  Mitten  thirty  yards  in  the  hundred,  I  know  you  would.'  'Oh,' 
says  a  third,  '  his  stomach  had  nothing  to  do  with  it — at  least  it 
wouldn't  have  had,  if  he  had  been  in  good  keep  ;  but  he  was  in  no 
order  to  run.  I  saw  him  eat  two  water  imllioiis  and  a  peck  of  peach- 
es, not  an  hour  before  the  race.  Take  that  weight  off  of  him,  and 
where  would  Bill  Mitten  have  been  ?'  '  Well,'  said  the  second, 
'  that's  just  what  I  say.  He  only  lacks  three-quarters  of  an  inch  of 
beating  '  the  universal  world,'  I  thought  his  belly  was  nat'ral.' 

"  This  kind  of  chat,"  continued  Moore,  "made  Jake  very  m'ad,  and 
as  William  stood  laughing  with  the  rest,  Jake  stept  up  to  him,  and 
said,  '  If  you  can  beat  mc  running,  I  can  whip  you  mighty  easy.' 
You  know  that  hard  place  in  the  road  between  old  man  Haralson's 
house  and  the  Court  room  ?  Ho  was  standing  there  ;  and  the  words 
was  no  sooner  out  of  his  mouth  than  William  seijied  him,  fetched 
the  hip  lock  upon  him,  and  gave  him  the  hardest  fall  that  I  ever 
saw  a  boy  get  in  all  my  life.  Before  Jake  could  recover  from  his 
fall,  William  was  on  him,  giving  him  bringcr.  He  very  soon  '  told 
the  news  '  (cried  *  enough  !')  and  William  got  off  of  him  without  a 
scratch.  *!  don't  suppose  there  ever  was  a  people  more  rejoiced  and 
surprised  than  they  all  were  at  William's  doings."  Jake  had  no  idea 
that  a  boy  dressed  as  fine  as  William  was,  could  fight  at  all,  nor  did 
anybody  ciso  believe  it;  but.  Lord  bless  your  soul,  Captain,  he  walked 
over  Jake  in  the  highest  style  of  fighting  !  I  tell  you  what,  sir, 
he's  as  active  as  a  cat  and  as  bold  as  a  lion.  So  you  see  he  was  not 
to  blame." 

"And  now  came  the  tug  of  war,"  (intestine  tear)  with  the  Cap- 
tain. Before  Moore  had  proceeded  four  sentences  in  his  narrative, 
Captain  Thompson's  countenance  lost  every  trace  of  amazement  and 
indignation,  and  assumed  a  rather  unchristian  placidity.  The  next 
transition  was  to  a  benignant  smile  ;  then  to  an  expression  of  wonder 
and  delight  J  then  to  a  laugh  of  triumph  ;  and  so  it  went  on,  stronger 
and  stronger,  to  the  end  of  the  chapter ;  so  that  when  Moore  con- 
cluded, it  was  manifest  that  "brother"  Thompson  had  no  more 
thought  of  religion  in  him,  than  he  had  of  tho  tattling  of  his  counte- 
nance; and  no  more  thought  of  the  tattling  of  his  countenance, 
than  if  he  had  been  all  the  time  in  profound  sleep.  But  the  time 
had  come  for  him  to  speak,  and  what  could  he  say  ?  Bill  had  fol- 
lowed hid  counsels  to  the  letter,  and  had  exhibited  the  very  fruits 
K 


150  .         MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN". 

from  thera  that  he  had  anticipSlted  and  desired.  Should  he  uow  re- 
buke him?  .  That  would  not  do.  Should  he  applaud  his  conduct? 
That  would  not  do  from  a  Christian.  Should  he  remain  silent? 
That  would  be  a  tacit  sanction  of  all  that  William  had  done.  But 
say  something  he  must,  and  that  something  must  be  extemporized; 
so  he  began,  in  a  very  cool  tone,  that  might  be  taken  for  the  com- 
posure of  religion,  or  the  composure  of  gratification  : 

"Why,  William,  I'm  astonished  at  you!" 

Very  true,  but  very  equivocal. 

"  I  don't  think,  in  an}/  view  of  the  caxc,  that  his  saying  simply, 
that  he  could  whip  you,  justified  you  in  attacking  him " 

"  But,  Uncle,  I  saw  that  he  was  mad,  and  bent  upon  picking  a 
quarrel  with  me,  or  hacking  me  before  all  the  company,  and  I  thought 
that  as  I  would  have  to  fight  or  back  out,  I'd  best  take  a  running 
start  on  him  ;  for  the  first  blow  in  a  fight  is  half  the  battle,  they 

say. 

'' Well,  that  is  true — that  is — arguing  upon  )cor!(I/t/  principles ; 
and  supposing  fighting  in  any  case  to  be  justifiable;  for  by  that 
course  you  arc  certain  to  get  some  advan However,  worldly  prin- 
ciples are  not  always  to  be  trusted;  indeed,  never  to  be  trusted  when 
they  come  in  conflict  with  religious  principles.  The  longer  I  live 
in  the  world,  the  raore  dissatisfied  I  become  with  its  wl^s  and  no- 
tions. Four  or  five  months  ago,  I  would  have  given  advice  that  I 
would  not  now  give — at  least  without  very  considerable  qualifications. 
Vigor  of  body,  strength  of  constitution,  unflinching  courage — moral 
courage — are  certainly  great  flings — great  things  in  many  points  of 
view — but  then,  like  all  good  gifts,  they  may  be  abused.  And  here, 
William,  lot  me  give  you  a  caution.  You  have  a  very  good  apology 
(our  frjfnd  Moore  thinks)  for  engaging 4n  those  contests  with  Black. 
Now,  take  care  that  your  victories  over  him  do  not  lead  you  to  seek 
contests  merely  to  show  your  prowess — merely  for  the  praise  of  vic- 
tory, and  the  terror  of  your  companions.  Oh  !  of  all  the  disgusting 
things  in  this  iR'orld,  a  mere  bully — a  mai!  wIjo  lurces  his  fellow  be- 
ing into  a  fight  with  him,  merely  for  the  vile  fame  of  whipping  him, 
is  the  most  disgusting.  I  have  seen  such  men,  and  I  have  despised 
them.  They  pretend  to  take  as  insults  what  they  know  was  meant 
in  friendship,  or  in  fun.  They  wantonly  assail  feelings,  play  insuf- 
ferable pranks  with  men,  and  then  assail  them  for  speaking  harshly 
of  what  they  say  they  meant  as  innocent  sport.  They  take  occasion 
from  a  man's  dress,  his  features,  his  person,  his  carriage,  to  worry 
him  into  resistance  of  some  kind,  and  then  flog  bim   for  resisting. 


]^[ASTKR  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  151 

Can  anythinjz;  better  mark  Ji  devil  tliau  such  conduct  as  this  ?  Now, 
William,  I  don't  blame  you  for  fighting  (that  is,  vpon  worhlli/  prin- 
ciples)  under  the  circumstances ;  but  I  do  blame  you  for  going  to 
such  places — not  for- going  to  Mr.  Haralson's,  for  he  is  a  very  worthy 
man,  and  has  a  very  worthy  family,  but  ifor  going  there  in  Court 
times.  I  have  been  there  often  and  I  don't  remember  ever  to  have 
seen  one  of  his  sons  in  the  crowd  of  Court  days,  in  ray  life.  And 
I  blame  you  for  running  a  race,  at  such  a  time  and  place." 

Now  if  the  reader  can  extract  from  this  long  harangue,  what 
were  the  Captain's  views  of  the  case  of  Mitten  vs.  Black,  upon 
Christian  j^riiicijyleif,  he  is  certainly  much  wiser  than  the  writer. 
Whether  it  was  becoming  in  him  to  discuss  the  case  so  generally 
upon  ^^  xcorldl}/  i^rinciplen''  without  drawing  a  line  of  distinction  be- 
tween them  and  Christian  prinripJa^ — whether  it  was  right  in  him 
to  say  what  he  would  have  advised  four  or  five  mouths  ago,  that  he 
would  not  now  without  any  specifications  that  might  enlighten  his 
nephew,  as  to  whether  he  muant  to  take  back  any  of  his  counsels 
upon  universal  excellence,  are  questions  which  we  will  not  under- 
take to  settle.  But  we  will  venture  to  say,  that  Master  Mitten  in- 
ferred from  it,  that  the  Captain  was^ighly  delightfed,  (hut  of  course 
only  on  worhili/ p)iHripl(s)  with  his:  achievements,  and  that  he  need 
never  fear  the  Captain's  wrath  for  fighting,  provided  he  would  always 
fight  at  the  right  time,  in  the  right  place,  and  for  good  reasons  in  Mr. 
Moore's  judgment. 

In  the  course  of  his  obserTations,  Master  3Iittcn  discovered  two 
other  things  through  the  aid  of  Suap-drugon,  which  we  must  not 
omit  to  mention  ;  the  one  was,  that  six  or  seven  months  abstinence 
from  strong  drink,  had   not  entirely  abated  his  relish  for  it;  and  the 
other  was,  that  the   squatter  sovereigns  committed  many  errors  in 
their  games  that  he  could  have  rectified  with  success.     It  was  the 
custom  of  not  a  few  heads  of  families  at  this  time,  to  make  up  a 
mint-julep  of  peach  or  apple-brandy,  every  morning,  and  to  give  a 
little  to  erery  member  of  the  family,  old  and  young',  blaeks  excepted. 
It  was  H  much  more  invariable  custom  to  make  a  large  bowl  of  egg- 
nog  every  Christmas,  of  which  the  whole  family  were  expected  to 
take  a  little  more  freely,  and  it  was  considered  rather  a  laughing 
than  a  serious  matter  if  some  of  the  children  got  intoxicated.     No 
one  ever  entered  a  house  to  tarry  for  a  half  hour,  without  being  asked 
"  to  take  something  to  drink,"  and  with  the  plainer  people  of  the 
country,  this  invitation  was  extended  to  boys  hardly  in  their  teens, 
and  was  accepted  without  exciting  any  surprise.    Not  many  jears 


152  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEK. 

before  the  times  of  which  vre  are  speaking,  probably  down  to  the 
very  times,  a  still  more  remarkable  custom  prevailed  among  some, 
if  not  all  Msthodist  Preachers; — which  was  to  ask  a  blessing  upoa 
every  glass  of  toddy  they  took.  Should  this  statement  be  questioned, 
we  have  authority  for  it,  at  hand,  which  no  man  in  Georgia  will 
question.  How  this  custom  originated  it  is  easy  to  divine  ;  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  Methodist  Church  enjoined  upon  its  members  to  do 
nothing  upon  which  they  could  not  invoke  God's  blessing,  and  as 
they  never  dreamed  that  there  was  anything  sinful  in  taking  a  glass  of 
toddy,  or  as  it  was  more  commonly  called  a  little  moectcned  dram, 
they  "said  grace  over  it." 

While  such  customs  were  rife  in  the  country,  it  is  not  to  be  woq- 
dered  at  that  Master  Mitten  had  frequent  opportunities  of  induljring 
his  early  formed  relish  for  ardent  spirits,  even  without  the  help  of 
Snap-dragon — with  his  help  they  were  quintupled.  He  however 
took  care  never  to  appear  at  home,  or  in  the  presence  of  his  Uncle, 
"  disguised  loith  liquor."  But  as  the  Captain  saw  that  he  was  doing  no 
good,  he  feared  that  he  was  doing  much  harm,  and  he  rejoiced  great- 
ly when  the  time  arrived  for  his  return  to  school.  A  little  before 
this  time,  the  C^iptain  informed  William  overnight  that  he  wished 
to  borrow  Snap-dragon  for  a  short  ride  the  next  morning,  as  all  his 
own  horses  were  in  use.  William  gave  a  cordial  assent,  of  course. 
"  Send  Tom  over  with  him  directly  after  breakfast,  I'm  only  going 
to  Doctor  Wingfield's,"  said  the  Captain. 

The  Captaib  lived  on  the« street  that  led  directly  to  Doctor  Wing- 
field's  and  near  the  edge  of  the  town.  As  William  had  never  seea 
his  uncle  on  Snap-dragon,  and  felt  a  deep  interest  in  bis  performance 
under  the  saddle  of  his  kind  benefactor,  he  took  his  position  in  the 
inner  lock  of  a  fence  on  the  street,  under  cover  of  some  high  weeds, 
whence,  with  a  little  change  of  position,  he  could  have  a  full  view 
of  the  Captain's  house,  and  two  or  three  hundred  yards  of  the  street 
and  road  leading  from  it.  Tom  got  t«  the  house  with  Snap-dragon, 
about  the  time  that  William  gob  comfortably  seated.  Snap  was  soon 
saddled,  and  the  Captain  was  nearly  as  soon  by  his  side,  ready  to 
mount  him.  Snap  showing  signs  of  impatiance  to  get  off.  "  What 
makes  that  horse  do  so,  Tom?"  asked  the  Captain.  "  I  don't  like 
his  motions." 

"  He's  gentle,  Mas'  David,"  said  Tom.  "He  only  do  so  till  you 
Btart  him." 

The  Captain  placed  one  hand  on  Snap's  neek  and  the  other  on  the 
back  of  the  saddle  to  mount ;  this  band  happened  to  slip  and  fall  a 


MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN.  158 

little  rudely  on  Snap's  back.  Snap,  nothing  doubting  that  this  was 
the  beginning  of  tho  ''grabble  tickle,"  commenced  with  the  prelimi- 
naries of  the  polka,' 

"  Why,  that  horse  is  ruined,"  said  the  Captain.  ''  I  wonder  he 
hasn't  knocked  William's  brains  out  long  ago." 

"  Mas'  Dayid  I  tell  you  the'  anT  nothin'  the  matter  with  him. 
This  is  nothin'  but  some  little  foolnish  Mas  William  lam  him.  He's 
gentle." 

In  the  mean  time  ]5ill  was  rolling  in  the  weeds,  "  enthused''* 
with  delight. 

The  Captain  made  a  second  attempt,  and  mounted. 

"  Tom,  tell  your  Mistress — Wo  I"  said  he  to  fidgetting  Snap,  and 
away  wer.t  Snap  "  to  the  tune  of  eight  miles  an  hour!"  "  Wo!" 
repeated  the  Captain  more  emphatically,  and  Snap  put  off  at  half 
speed,  at  which  gait  he  passed  Bill  in  an  agony  of  laughter.  The 
Captain  immediately  conjectured  that  Bill  had  been  runiJing  Snap, 
and  that  the  horse  took  "  ico"  for  "  (j/o  !"  and  he  did  not  repeat  the 
word  again.  Snap  soon  became  pacified,  and  the  Captain  brought 
him  to  a  halt.  He  studied  awhile  whether  ii  would  be  best  for  him 
to  go  on  or  return.  He  concluded  he  would  try  Snap  a  little  farther 
any  how  ;  so  he  clucked  to  him  to  proceed  j  but  so  far  from  proceed- 
ing, Snap  settled  himself  in  more  dignified  composure  than  he  had 
exhibited  during  the  whole  morning.  He  clucked  again,  with  no 
better  success.  He  chirped,  but  these  changes  of  note  operated  upon 
Snap  like  a*erauade. 

"  Why,  did  ever  anybody  see  such  a  fool  horse  since  the  world 
•was  niadi  I"  mused  the  Captain.  "  What's  a  body  to  do  with  him  i* 
How  is  he  to  be  made  to  go  on,  or  stop  ?  If  I  ever  give  another 
chap  a  fine  horse,  he  may  give  me  a  thousand  lashes,  and  I'll  thank 
him  for  it.  It  certainlj  was  the  unluv/a'est  act  of  my  life  to  gire 
Bill  this  horse  !" 

Upon  the  whole,  the  Captain  concluded  it  would  be  best  for  him 
to  g-et  out  of  temptations  as  quick  as  possible,  by  returning  home. 
Just  as  he  made  up  his  mind  to  this  course,  Mr.  Foster  met  him  : 

"  Good  morning,  brother  Thompson  !"  said  Foster. 

^'  Good  morning,  brother  Foster,"  f^aid  Mr.  Thompson. 

*' Which  way  are  you  going?" 

"  I  was  going  to  Doctor  Wingfield's,  but  I've  got  on  my  nephew's 
horse,  which  the  boy  has  so  completely' spoiled,  that  there  is  no  do- 
ing anything  with  him,  so  I'll  go  back  with  you." 

♦This  word,  of  very  modern  coinage,  ia  now  getting  into  pretty  general  use, 
.in  some  parts  of  the  country. 


154  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

All  of  the  proceedings  up  to  this  moment  convinced  Snap-dragon 
that  he  had  been  brought  out  that  morning  for  no  other  purpose  in 
the  world,  than  to  beat  Mr,  Foster's  horse  in  a ,  quarter  race.  His 
conjectures  were  fully  confirmed,  when  in  answer  to  Mr.  Foster's 
question  "don't  you  own  him?"  the  Captain,  as  he  paced  about, 
answered  emphatically  "  A^o  ."^ 

At  the  word.  Snap  dashed.  The  Captain  soon  took  him  up,  and 
waited  till  brother  Foster  came  up.  As  he  approached,  the  Captain 
clucked  to  Snap,  and  he  stopped  crustily. 

^'  Bless  your  soul,  honey,"  said  brother  Foster,  "  that's  a  mighty 
good  looking  horse,  but  he's  a  mighty  foolish  one." 

"  He  was  one  of  the  finest  horses  in  the  land Wo  I"  cried  the 

Captain,  (forgetting  himself,)  to  Snap,  in  rage  to  beat  Foster's  horse, 
and  away  he  dashed  again.     He  was  stopped  as  before, 

"  Why,  brother  Thompson,  that  horse  seems  to  go  when  he  ought 
to  stop,  and  stop  when  he  ought  to  go" 

"Exactly  so,"  said  the  Captain  ;  and  Snap  bristled  considerably  at. 
the  last  word,  but  was  chirped  to  a  halt  instantly. 

"  Why  bless  your  soul,  honey,  I  never  did  see  a  horse  take  on 
after  that  sort  in  all  my  life.  I  wouldn't  give  this  pipe  for  him,  if  I 
had  to  ride  him." 

***  No,"  said   the   Captain,  (Snap  bristled,)  "  nor  I  neither," 

In  this  way,  between  stops  and  starts,  and  sidles  and  snorts,  the 
Captain  reached  home  greatly  to  his  delight,  and  the  still  greater  de- 
light of  William, 

The  lecture  he  gave  his  nephew  at  their  next  meeting,  we  leave 
the  reader  to  conjecture. 


0 
on  AFTER  XVIII. 

When  the  time  came  for  William  Mitten  to  return  to  school,  he 
begped  his  uncle  to  allow  him  to  keep  his  horse  at  Willingtou.  He 
thought  "  that  it'  he  boarded  two  or  three  miles  from  the  sohool 
house,  and  rode  to  school  and  back  to  his  boarding  house  every  day, 
his  health  would  be  greatly  improved."  He  said,  that  "  if  he  had  a 
horse  to  ride  to  the  post  office  he  could  get  and  mail  letters  speedily 
— that  he  often  wished  to  go  and  hear  itr.  Waddcl  preach  at  Rocky 
River  Church  ;  but  that  he  had  no  means  of  getting  there — that  it 
would  cost  nothing  hardly  to  keep  a  horse  at  Willington.  Tha4i 
several  times  during  the  summer  he  had  suffered  from  head-ache, 
occasioned  by  hard  study  and  want  of  exercise,  and  that  unless  he 
could  take  more  exercise  in  the  .summer  months  than  he  had  been 
taking,  he  feared  his  health  would  be  ruined.  That  in  the  winter 
it  was  not  so  bad  ;  for  the  exercise  of  getting  wood,  and  the  active 
plays  of  the  school,  at  this  season  gave  him  plenty  of  exercise;  but 
in  warm  weather,  he  sometimes  got  so  weak  that  it  seemed  to  him  he 
would  faint."' 

Mrs.  Mitten  said  "  that  she  would  cheerfully  bear  the  expense  of 
the  horse,  if  her  brother  would  consent  to  William's  keeping  him  at 
Willington.  That  the  idea  of  his  constitution  being  shattered  by 
severe  study  was  distressing  to  her.  That  she  had  suffered  no  little 
in  mind  herself  from  the  difficulty  of  hearing  from  William  oft«n 
through  the  mails,  and  that  there  was  sometlfiug  delightful  in  the 
thought  of  her  son  going  to  sacred  service  with  his  preceptor.  She 
could  conceive  of  nothing  more  likely  to  produce  reciprocal  endear- 
ment between  the  two  than  this  ;  but  that  if  brother  David  thought 
differently  she  had  nothing  to  say." 

"  William,''  said  the  Oaptain,  "  you  perplex  me  not  a  little.  The 
horse  is  your^-,  and  1  do  not  like  to  interfere  with  your  right  of  pro- 
perty in  him;. and  yetj  to  allow  you  to  take  him  off  to  school  with 
you,  and  keep  him  there,  knowing  as  I  do  how  you  bave  u.sod  hini, 
seems  to  me  litjle  better  than  wilfully  putting  your  life  in  jeopardy, 
encouraging  you  to  idleness,  pushing  you  into  difficulties  with  your 
preceptor,  and  periling  all  my  bright  hopes  of  you  at  once.  What 
could  have  possessed  mc  to  make  you  such  a  present  as  that !  Yes, 
I  know  what  possessed  mc ;  I  wished  to  show  you  my  gratification  at 
your  prog: ess — to  encourage  you  in  your  studies;  to  prove  my  af- 


156  MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN. 

fectiou  for  you  ;  to  give  you  confidence  in  my  counsels,  and  to  give 
you  healthful,  agreeable,  aud<».uscful  exercise,  during  your  vacation. 
. Why  didn't  I  think  to  reserve  the  right  of  taking  him  back,  if 


you  abused  or  misused  the  gift  I " 

"  Uncle,  you  can  take  him  back,  if  you  wish  to." 

"  No,  I  will  not  do  that ;  but  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do  :  he  cost 
me  one  hundred  dollars ;  now  I  will  give  you  for  him,  one  hundred 
and  twenty  dollars  in  any  property  you  will  name — but  a  horse. 
That  sum  will  get  you  a  very  pretty  little  library,  that  will  be  of  use 
to  you  through  life.  Or  your  mother  will  add  to  it,  I  know,  a 
hundred  and  eighty  more,  and  that  will  get  you  a  nice  waiting  boy — 
or  anything  else  that  you  prefer.  But  mind,  I  do  not  wish  you  to  . 
make  the  ti-ade  merely  to  gratify  nic,  or  merely  to  appease  my  anxie- 
ties, or  quiet  my  apprehensions.  Act  without  fear  or  constraint  in 
the  matter.     You  will  not  offend  rnc  if  you  reject  my  offer."       * 

''Why,  William,"  said  Mrs.  Mitten,  "surely  when  you  see  your 
Uncle's  solicitude -" 

"Stop,  Anna!  My  solicitude  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  mat- 
ter  " 

» 

"I  was  only  going  to  call  to  William's  mind  how  sound  your  judg- 
ment had  been  in  everything  touching  his  interest " 

"  Well,  all  that  at  another  time.  William's  judgment  in  this 
matter  is  and  ought  to  be  his  guide.  In  conside'ring  my  proposition, 
forget  that  I  am  your  I'ncle  ;  forget  all  the  good  that  I  have  ever  done 
you,  and  decide  upon  it  with  perfect  freedom  of  will.  I'll  put  it 
in  the  right  view  before  you  :  Suppose  that  Mr.  Cunningham  was  to 
come  and  make  you  precisely  the  offer  which  I  make  you;  what 
would  you  say  to  it  ?" 

"  I  would  refuse  it  from  liim  ;  but •'' 

"  That's  enough,  my  sou " 

"  But,  brother,  I  don't  think  that  because  he  would  refuse  the  of- 
fer from  Mr.  Ounninghara,  it  follows  by  any  means  that  he  would  not 
freely  and  voluatarily  accept  it  from  you." 

"  No,  Uncle  ;  Mr.  Cunningham  has  never  done  me  the  favors  that 
you  have;  he's  no  relation  of  mine;  I  do  not  respect  his  judgment 
as  I  do  yours ;  and  to  prove  what  I  say,  I  now  tell  you  that  though 
I  never  was  as  much  attached  to  anything  in  all  my  life  as  I  am  to 
Snap-dragon,  I  freely  and  voluntarily,  and  of  my  own  judgment 
alone,  accept  your  proposition  ;  and  you  §hall  say  whether  the  pay 
for  the  horse  shall  be  in  books  or  a  negro  boy." 

♦  "No;  my  son  ;  I  admire  your  kind  feelings  towards  me;  they  are 


MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN.  157 

a  full  return  for  all  that  I  have  clone  for  you ;  but  I  can't  base  a 
trade  upon  them.  You  are  willing  to  accommodate  ynr ;  but  you 
are  not  willing  to  part  with  7/oiir  horxc — though  you  think  you  arc. 
He  is  yeurs,  ray  dear  boy,  and  I  will  not  purchase  him  from  you 
upon  any  other  considerations  than  those  which  would  influence  you 
in  a  trado  with  a  stranger  " 

"  Why,  brother,  that  seems  to  me  a  very  strange  refinement." 

"  I  don't  think  so,  sister.  Suppose  I  had  opened  the  proposition 
in  this  way:  '  William,  I  regret  that  I  gave  you  that  horse.  Now, 
I  gave  him  to  you  unasked  for;  I  am  your  Uncle,  who  loves  you; 
who  has  done  a  great  deal  for  you;  to  whom  you  owe  a  large  debt 
of  gratitude,  but  for  whom  you  would  never  have  gone  to  Mr. 
Waddel's  school,  and  by  consequence  must  have  lost  all  the  honors 
you  lAve  gained  there ;  in  all  which,  as  in  many  other  instances, 
you  have  seen  how  much  better  niy  judgment  is  as  to  your  true  in- 
terests than  yours;  now,  in  my  judgment,  the  horse  will  do  you 
moro  harm  than  good  ;  yield,  therefore,  to  my  judgment — return  my 
love  and  kindness,  by  giving  me  back  the  horse.'  Would  you  think 
all  this  right  ?" 

"  No,  certainly  ;  for  that  would  be  just  working  upon  the  child's 
feelings,  to  get  from  him  his  horse  for  nothing ;  but  you  propose 
to  give  him  more  than  the  value  of  the  horse,  and  in  better  pro- 
perty." 

"Then  there  is  no  difference  between  the  case  at  hand,  and  the 
case  put,  but  in  the  return  that  is  offered  to  him  for  the  horse.  It 
is  right  to  work  on  his  feelings  in  any  way  I  please  to  get  his  horse 
from  him,  provided,  I  give  him  for  him  what  i/on  :md  /think  a  fine 
price  !  Is  that  your  doctrine?  Don't  you  think  that  William  ought 
to  have  a  will  in  the  matter?" 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  The  cases  are  not  at  all  alike.  You  havn't  gone  on 
with  all  that  string  of  appeals  to  his  heart;  you  would  not  lot  mc 
even  speak  of  your  better  judgment ;  you  forewarned  him  not  to  let 
his  decision  be  governed  in  «ny  way  by  hi.-*  relation  to  you  or  your 
kindness  to  him.  lie's  not  a  man  to  judge  of  prices,  and  of  what 
will  be  best  for  him." 

"  Nevertheless,  he  has  all  the  rights  of  a  man  in  trade.  It  would 
be  very  silly  in  him  to  refuse  five  thousand  for  his  horse ;  but  if  he 
chose  to  do  so,  I  don't  think  you  would  force  him  to  take  it,  and  I 
am  sure  I  would  not " 

"  Well,  if  he  was  such  a  simpleton  as  to  refuse  five  thousand  dol- 
lars for  his  horse,  I  don't  know  but  T  would  force  him  to  take  it.    I 


158  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEX. 

certainly  would  Advice  him  strenuously  to  take  it.     But  what  has  all 
this  to  do  with  the  case  ?     Have  you  forced  him  '/" 

"  No,  but  he  is  acting  upon  precisely  the  feelings  that  my  sup- 
posed appeals  to  his  sensibilities  would  have  produced." 

"  And  are  they  not  praiseworthy  feelings,  brother?" 

"  Highly  praiseworthy,  sister  '  Too  praiseworthy  to  be  abused  j 
and  it  would  be  an  abuse  of  them  in  me,  to  avail  myself  of  th(3ra.to 
deprive  him  of  a  piece  of  property  which  he  does  not  wish  to  part 
with.  And  now,  my  dear  boy,  I  withdraw  my  proposition ;  and  let 
it  not  distress  you  the  least  in  the  world,  that  I  have  done  so.  Do 
not  suppose  that  I  will  blame  you,  or  harbor  any  unkind  feelings 
towards  you  for  your  reluctance  to  part  with  him " 

"  But  Uncle,  I  tell  you  again,  I  am  willing  to  part  with  him  to  you 
— perfectly  willing "  '    i    • 

''  Well,  my  son,  I  think  the  more  of  you  for  that;  but  let  us  drop 
the  matter.  Keep  your  horse,  son,  but  don't  think  of  taking  him  to 
Dr.  Waddel's.  I  have  not  yet  fully  made  up  my  mind  whether  I 
have  authority  to  forbid  your  so  doing — ^I  incline  to  the  opinion  that 
standing  as  I  do  in  the  place  of  a  parent  to  you,  duty  requires  me 
to  interdict  positively  your  keeping  a  horse  at  Willington ;  but  I 
hope  you  will  not  force  me  to  decide  that  question  by  attempting  to 
take  him.  I  have  many  things  to  say  against  it,  but  let  these  suf- 
fice :  You've  spoiled  that  horse — he  is  dangerous  to  others,  if  not 
to  you — you  will  have  fifty  students  on  his  back,  and  some  of  them 
may  get  hurt — perhaps  killed  by  him.  He  will  be  a*useless  expense 
to  your  mother — the  summer  months  are  now  gone — he  will  interfere 
with  your  studies — dispatch  of  letters  between  here  and  Willington 
is  of  no  consequence,  and  the  weather  will  be  too  cold  for  you  to  go 
off"  to  preaching  with  Mr.  Waddel." 

"Now,  brother,"  said  3Irs.  Mitten,  "don't understand  me  in  what 
I  say,  as  interfering  in  the  least  with  your  authority  over  William, 
or  as  opposing  my  judgment  to  yours,  or  as  raising  the  slightest  ob- 
jection to  your  dealing  with  him  in  this,  matter  as  you  think  best; 
but  simply  as  asking  an  explanation  of  you.  William  offers  you  his 
horse  on  your  own  terms;  you  refuse  him  because  he  does  not  off"er 
him  from  the  right  motives,  or  the  right  feelings,  or  something  else 
that  I  don't  understand,  and  yet  you  doubt  whether  you  will  allow 
him  to  use  him  as  he  wishes  to.  How  do  you  reconcile  these 
views  T' 

"  It  will  be  time  enough  to  reconcile  them  when  I  come  to  act 
upon  them  ;  but  should  I  deem   it  my  duty  to  forbid  his  keeping  a 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTKN.  159 

horse  at  Willington,  I  should  reconcile  thera  just  as  you  would  in 
giving  a  toy  to  your  child,  and  forbidding  him  to  use  it  to  the  an- 
noyance of  your  household,  or  to  the  injury  of  himself." 

"  But  William  is  not  now  a  child,  and  I  am  sure  that  he  would 
obey  your  directions  strictly  in  the  use  of  him." 

"  Yes,  Uncle;  you  may  just  lay  down  the  law,  and  I  will  obey  it 
strictly  in  every  thing." 

"  But  I  cannot  anticipate  all  the  ways  in  which  you  may  mis-use 
him." 

''  Brother,  will  you  take  it  amiss  if  I  venture  a  woi-d  of  advice 
here  ?" 

"No:  by  no  means.  I  will  always  hear  your  views  in  reference 
to  your  child  with  pleasure  ;  and  what  is  more  I  will  always  take  it, 
if  I  am  not  coiifidenf  that  it  will  operate  to  the  prejudice  of  your 
80n."        .       . 

"  "Well  I  know  that  you  take  a  pleasure  in  indulging  him  in  every 
thing  you  can,  that  you  do  not  think  will  be  injurious  to  him." 

"True!" 

"  And  I  am  equally  sure  that  "William  has  reaped  too  many  benefits 
from  obedience  to  you,  ever  to  disobey  you  again  in  anything.  Now, 
this  plan  has  occurred  to  me  :  September,  though  a  fall  month  is 
always  a  warm,  relaxing,  sickly  month  in  this  climate;  and  as  he  has 
been  much-  on  horse-back,  during  thfr  vacation,  it  may  injure  his* 
health  to  break  otf  suddenly  from  this  exercise,  and  set  himself  down 
to  severe  study.  I  know  he  has  made  rather  a  bad  use  of  his  horse 
during  the  vacntien,  but  he  can't  do  so  at  school.  You  have  enume- 
rated the  evils  you  apprehend  from  his  keeping  a  horse  there,  and 
that  will  be  sufficient  to  guard  him  against  them  ;  for  he  has  told  me 
over  and  over  again,  that  he  believed  he  had  the  best  Ujicle  in  the 
world ;  that  you  had  only  to  tell  him  what  to  do,  and  he  would  do  it 
if  it  were  to  go  to  the  earth's  end.  Now  give  him  an}'  other  orders 
or  cautions  about  the  horse  that  you  think  proper  ;  let  him  keep  him 
only  while  the  weather  continues  warm,  and  as  soon  as  it  turns  cool, 
I  will  send  Tom  for  him  and  fetch  him  home,  if  you  say  so.  The 
short  vacation  at  Christmas  will  soon  be  here,  and  if  he  keeps  him 
till  then,  he  can  ride  him  home,  and  save  us  the  trouble  of  sending 
for  him.  But  no  matter  for  that,  if  you  say  send  for  him  before,  it 
shall  be  done.  As  for  the  expenses  of  keeping  the  horse,  it  will 
cost  no  more  to  keep  him  there  than  here,  nor  as  much  ;  and  there, 
he  will  be  of  some  use,  and  here  he  will  be  of  none.  But  the  great 
benefit  I  promise  myself  from  it,  is  William's  delightful  improving 
trips  with  Mr.  Waddel  to  his  preaching  places." 


160  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

"  William,"  said  the  Captain,  "  retire  a  little,  while  your  mother 
and  I  discuss  this  matter  a  little  farther." 

William  retired. 

"Do  you  know,  Anna,"  continued  the  Captain,  "that  nothing  has 
fallen  from  William  in  three  months,  which  has  pained  me,  not  to 
say  offended  me,  so  much,  as  that  Hooky  River  plea  for  keeping  a 
horse?  Here  he  has  been  in  the  midst  of  preaching,  and  various 
religious  exercises  for  three  or  four  weeks,  and  except  on  the  Sab- 
bath, he  has  hardly  ever  darkened  a  Church  door  in  the  day  time,, 
and  never  at  night,  unless  you  pressed  him  into  your  service;  and 
now  all  of  a  sudden  he  has  taken  a  wonderful  yearning  to  accompa- 
ny Mr.  Waddel  upon  his  preaching  excursions." 

"  Brother,  I  think  the  day  has  gone  by  when  William  would  de- 
ceive;  and  I  am  very  happy  in  having  it  in  my  power  to  Qxplain 
this  thing  to  your  satisfaction.  I  talked  to  William  about  his  taking 
so  little  interest  in  the  meetings,  and  he  said  that  he  wanted  recrea- 
tion after  his  hard  study,  for  the  long  term.  That  he  would  soon 
have  to  renew  his  studies 'for  ten  long  months,  with  only  two  weeks 
vacation  at  Christmas,  and  that  if  he  did  not  improve  his  health  in 
the  vacation  he  would  break  down.  That  he  had  been  to  preaching  iu 
the  country  several  times  when  there  was  preaching  in  town,  because  he 
could  take  exercise  in  going  there.  Now  at  school  the  state  of  things 
will  be  just  reversed.  He  will  be  kept  constantly  employed  except 
on  Saturdays  and  Sundays,  and  he  would  be  desirous  of  exercising 
on  those  days  and  doing  j^ood  at  the  same  time." 

The  Captain  looked  doubtingly,  and  said  no  more  upon  that 
head  ;  but  he  returned  from  the  episode  : 

"  Anna,"  said  he,  "  I  am  very  anxious  to  accommodate  you  and 
William,  but  I  have  awful  misgivings  about  this  horse  affair.  There 
is  much  weight  in  what  you  have  said  ;  but  it  does  not  satisfy  me. 
What  a  world  of  trouble  one  false  step  may  give  a  man  !  What 
eternal  vigilance  must  a  man  keep  up,  both  upon  himself  and  his 
charge,  who  has  the  government  of  boys  !  Now,  if  I  refuse  to 
comply  with  your  wishes,  jand  by  any  chance  in  the  world  William 
should  happen  to  get  sick,  you  will'ascribe  it  to  my  needless  rigor, 
and  carelessness  about  his  health.  I  erred  in  giving  him  the  horse, 
and  I  am  not  absolutely  certain  that  after  having  given  him,  I  ought 
to  control  his  use  of  him,  simply  upon  my  apprehensions  that  it  will 
be  mischievous.  Perhaps  no  evil  will  grow  out  of  it  for  one  short 
month,  or  a  month  and  a  half  at  farthest,  for  surely  we  shall  have 
frost  in  that  time,  and  by  giving  William  proper  precautions,  it  may 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  161 

be  that  all  will  turn  out  well  at  last.  You  and  William  will  be  accom- 
Diodated,  my  doubts  will  be  removed,  (if  they  can  be  called  doubts) 
about  interfering  with  his  right  of  property  in  the  present  state  of 
things,  and  pospibly  his  health  may  be  improved,  or  at  least  preserved 
by  it.  Call  him  back  and  let  me  give  him  my  charge." 
Willijim  came. 

"I  have  concluded,  son.  to  letyou  keep  your  horse  at  Mr.  Waddel's, 
upon  these  conditions  :  You  are  to  ride  him  no  where  but  to  the 
school  house  and  back  to  your  boarding  house,  except  on  Saturdays. 
On  those  days,  you  arc  to  ride  him  to  no  grog  shops,  gatherings  or 
frolics,  nor  more  than  six  miles  from  Willington,  anywhere,  except  to 
Vienna,  and  there,  only  to  mail  your  own  letters — don't  forget  this 
condition.  You  tire  nei^ir  lo  go  to  ]i<>iua  imless  i/ou  c/o  to  hiail  a 
letter  of  your  own,  addfcsscd  to  your  mother  or  myself.  All  your 
letters  to  others,  you  must  carry  to  the  office  when  you  go  to  mail 
your  letters  to  one  of  us.  You  are  not  to  go  simply  to  enquire  for 
letters — enquire  for  them  when  you  go  to  mail  your  own.  When 
you  go  under  these  restrictions,  you  may  of  course  carry  letters  and 
bring  letters  for  your  school-mates — you  are  not  to  ride  your  horse  at 
all  on  the  Sabbath,  except*  to  accompany  Mr.  Waddel  to  some  preach- 
ing appointment.  You  are  to  loan  him  to  no  student — I'll  give  you 
a  paper  to  show  them,  that  will  excuse  you  to  them  for  not  loaning 
your  horse  to  them.  When  your  mother  sends  for  your  horse,  you 
are  to  give  him  up  without  a  murmur,  and  if  you  keep  him  till 
Christmas,  you  are  to  bring  him  home  and  leave  him  here." 

William  subscribed  to  the  terms  cheerfully,  and  showed  by  his 
countenance  that  he  suffered  no  distress  from  his  Uncle's  over-refine- 
ment in  trade.  On  the  second  of  September  he  and  Tom  took  the 
road  to  Willington — Tom  with  saddle-bags  which  bent  upwards  with 
stuffing.  On  reaching  Willington,  William  selected  for  his  board- 
ing house  one  of  the  r«motest  from  the  school  house  that  he  could 
find,  with  any  students  in  it.  It  contained  two  pretty  wild  fellows. 
A  single  day  hero  convinced  him  that  he  had  made  a  great  change 
for  the  better,  in  boarding  houses.  The  eating  was  better,  the  sleep- 
ing was  better,  than  at  Newby's,  and  here  he  understood  he  would 
not  have  to  cut  his  own  wood  abd  make  his  own  fires.  "  Why 
didn't  I  come  here  at  first!"'  thought  he.  "Smith,"  said  he, 
'•does  Mr.  Waddel  ever  come  round  here  of  nights  ?"  *' No,"  said 
Smith,  "  it's  too  far  off  for  him  to  comQboguimj  about  to,  of  nights  ; 
and  if  he  was  to  come  one  time,  he  wouldn't  come  again,  for  I'd 
make  liim  smrll  the  face  of  a  brick-bat." 


162  MASTEPw  WILLIAM   MITTEX. 

As  there  were  no  hrkk-hats  about  Willington,  we  infer  from  tliis 
remark  that  Smith  was  a  city  gentleman. 

'•'And  you've  no  Monitor  here?"  enquired  William. 

"No  ;"  said  Jones,  ''  Old  Moses  is  got  more  sense  than  to  make 
Smith  monitor  over  me,  or  me  over  him.  He  knows  we'd  never 
spunk  one  another." 

William  was  iu  transports  with  his  new  location.  His  appearance 
at  school  on  horseback,  created  quite  a  sensation  among  the  students  j 
divers  of  whom  got  spunked  "  for  looking  at  William  Mitten's  horse 
in  study  hours" — in  short  for  being  idle,  but  in  detail  as  just  stated. 
As  Doctor  Waddel  was  about  mounting  old  Hector,  at  12  o'clock  on 
the  second  day  after  William's  return,  he  saw  William  riding  Snap- 
dragon, to  water,  and  he  joined  him. 

"^Yilliam,"  said  the  Doctor.  '*' have  you  quit  boarding  at  Mr. 
Newby's'?" 

"Yes  sir." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that.  Did  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Ncwby  say  or  do  any- 
thing to  offend  you  '/" 

"  No  sir,  but  Uncle  allows  me  to  board  where  I  please,  and  I  pre- 
ferred boarding  at  Mr.  's." 

"  Is  that  your  horse  ?" 

«  Yes  sir." 

The  Doctor  cleared  his  throat  sadly  and  prophetically,  and  pro- 
ceeded : 

<'  That  horse,  William,  is  going  to  bring  you  into  trouble,  and  I 
advise  you  to  write  to  your  mother  immediately  to  send  for  him  and 
take  him  away ;  and  I  advise  you  to  get  back  to  Mr.  Newby's  as  soon 
as  possible." 

"1  don't  expect  to  keep  him  long  Mr.  Waddel — only  till  the 
weather  turns  cool." 

"  That  may  be  quite  too  long.  'Williarrt  I  have  been  keeping 
school  many  years,  and  I  dpclaro  to  you,  my  son,  that  no  student 
under  uic  has  ever  done  anything  to  fill  nic  with  such  fears,  anxieties 
and  griefs  as  you  have,  in  these  seemingly  small  matters  of  changing 
your  boarding  house,  and  keeping  a  horse  here.  What  day  of  the 
month  is  this  ?     The  fifth,  isn't  it  ?"• 

"  Yes  sir." 

"Is  your  name  upon  either  of  these  beech-trees,  William  ?" 

«  Yes  sir." 

"  Come  show  me  which." 

<'  Th^e  "it  is,"  said  William  as  they  approached  a  beech. 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  163 

"  Very  prettily  carved.     Dp  you  keep  a  pocket-book,  William  ?" 

"  Yes  sir." 

"  Write  down  in  your  pocket-book  the  year  and  the  day  of  the 
month,  in  which  you  and  I  took  our  first  and  last  look  together  at 
your  name  on  that  beoch." 

"Why,  Mr.  Waddel,  I  haven't  done  anything  wrong,  have  I?" 

''Nothing  morally  wrong  my  son,  nothing  morally  wrong.  I 
have  a  deep  interest  in  you  William,  and  so  has  your  country.  Hund- 
reds will  regret  to  be  disappointed  in  you.  I^ay  to  heart  the  advice 
I  am  about  to  give,  and  follow  it  as  you  respect  me,  as  you  love  your 
Uncle,  as  you  love  yourself,  as  you  love  your  mother,  as  you  love 
your  country.  Till  j'ou  send  home  that  horse,  be  more  studious  than 
you  have  ever  been,  more  strict  in  observing  the  rules  of  the  school, 
more  watchful  of  what  you  say  and  do,  more  careful  of  wh'erc  you 
go,  than  you  have  ever  been.     And  as  soon  as  you  dispose  of  the 

horse,  come  back  to  Mr.  Ne why's — Mr.  -. 's  is  too  far  for  you 

to  walk." 

''  I've  paid  my  board  for  a  quarter." 

"No  matter  for  that.  Get  back  to  Newby's  as  soon  as  you  can, 
and  I'll  arrange  the  matter  of  board   with  Mr. ." 

"  Mr.  Waddel,  X.  Jones  and  Z.  Smith  board  at  Mr. 's." 

'' 1  know  they  do,  but — they  keep  no  horse.  Good  day!  lie- 
member  tke  tifth  of  September  and  the  beech  tree !" 

William  did  not  move  from  the  spot  where  Doctor  Waddol  left 
him,  for  tivc  minutes.  lie  was  alarmed,  he  could  not  tell  why. 
'•  What,"  thought  he,  "  can  there  be  in  keeping  a  horse,  that  is  so 
horrible  to  Uncle  and  Mr.  Waddel  I  It's  the  strangest  thin^  in  the 
world !" 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

It  was  a  couiuion  rouiark  of  Doctor  Waddel,  "  show  luo  a  scliool 
boy  with  a  horye,  dog,  and  gun,  and  I'll  show  you  a  boy  who  will 
never  come  to  anything."  We  can  look  back  through  the  vista  "of 
fifty  yeais,  and  we  cannot  point  to  the  man,  living  or  dead,  whose  his- 
tory disproves  the  remark.  We  can  point  to  many  in  verification  of 
it.  But  Master  Mitten  had  as  yet  only  a  horse,  and  at  worst  accord- 
ing to  Waddel,  he  was  only  one-third  of  the  way  to  nothing.  Why, 
then,  was  the  Doctor  so  much  afflicted  by  his  horse  ?     And  why  did 

it  distress  him  so  much  more  to  find  William  boarding  at  Mr. 's, 

than  Smith  and  Jones  ? 

He  saw  at  once  that  William  had  changed  his  lodging  only  for  the 
pleasure  of  riding  his  horse  every  day.  That  his  horse  would  ne- 
cessarily employ  much  of  his  time,  that  might  be  much  better  dis- 
posed of,  and  be  constantly  engaging  him  in  pleasure  rides,  or  vice- 
rides,  when  he  ought  to  be  at  his  books.  He  felt  almost  certain 
that  ere  long  that  horse  would  bring  him  on  the  monitor's  bill,  and 
he  disliked  exceedingly  to  give  a  promising  boy  his  first  whipping; 
because  he  knew  that  half  the  stimulus  to  close  study  and  good  order 
would  be  taken  from  him  by  his  first  whipping.  But  the  great  source 
of  the  Doctor's  uneasiness  was  his  room-mates.  Jones  and  Smith 
were  among  the  few  students  of  the  Doctor's  school,  who  disliked 
him,  and  they  cordially  despised  him.  And  yet,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  he  had  never  flogged  either  of  them,  he  had  never  sd:id  a  cross 
word  to  either  of  them.  They  feared  whipping,  and  demeaned  them- 
selves well  enough  when  at  school,  to  keep  off  the  monitor's  bills, 
and  recited  well  enough  to  drag  along  with  their  classes.  "  Why, 
then,  did  they  despise  him?" 

The  reader  must  ask  the  Devil  to  explain  that  matter.  We  ac- 
knowledge our  utter  incompetency  to  do  it.  Yes,  we  can  go  a  little 
way  into  the  explanation  of  it,  and  as  it  is  one  of  the  paradoxes  of 
human  nature,  the  philosophic  reader  is  entitled  to  all  the  light 
that  we  can  shed  upon  it.  If  it  were  possible  we  should  say  that 
Smith  came  into  the  world  hating  Doctor  Waddel ;  for  he  seemed  to 
bring  his  hatred  with  him  to  the  school.  At  their  very  first  inter- 
view, he  showed  palpable  signs  of  it,  already  up  to  a  red  heat.  Now 
if  it  be  possible  for  a  rational  being  to  hate  furiously  at  sight,  then 
Smith's  hatred  commenced  with  this  interview.     But  if  this  be  mor- 


1^«TER   WILLIAM    ;xrilTEN'.  165 

ally  impo$isiblo,  .it  what  period  of  Lis  life  can  we  better  place  it 
than  at  his  birth  ? 

As  to  Jones,  his  hatred,  though  curious,  and  smoked  a  little  with 
the  unnatural,  is  iievortheless  traceable.  From  his  introduction  to 
ih<i  Doctor,  to  the  day  of  his  becoming  Smith's  room-mate,  he 
seemed  rather  to  like  the  Doctor;  but  on  the  evening  of  that  day, 
the  most  wonderful  transition  of  feeling  took  jplace  in  him,  that  per- 
haps ever  occurred  in  the  history  of  mind.  As  the  two  took  their 
seats,  at  their  study-table,  Jones  observed,  "  Old  Closes  is  a  pretty 

tight  old  follow,  but  1  can't  help  liking  him."     *'  He's  a  d nd 

old  tyrant !"  said  Smith.  Whereupon  Jones'  countenance  made 
prodamatioh  of  the  workings  of  his  mind  in  this  unmistakable  lan- 
guage :  — "  Why, — La  me  !  I  never  thought  of  that !  But  it's  so  ! 
I  see  it  plaii^  enough  vox  !  What  an  escape  I  hav«  made  !  A  little 
more,  and  1  might  have  been  precipitated  into  the  bottomless  abyss 
of  love  !"  Jones  covered  his  ignorance  and  weakness  in  the  usual 
way,  by  pretending  he  was  in  ^un,  and  to  prove  it,  fell  to  cursing 
the  Doctor  luxuriously.  The  most  of  their  recreation  hours  of  eve- 
nings, were  spent  in  brotherly  contests  for  supremacy  in  hating  and 
abusing  their  excellent  preceptor.  Let  no  mau  say  that  such  cases 
never  occurred.  They  are  to  be  IVmnd  in  every  school  of  a  hundred 
boys  in  the  land — not  exactly,  to  be  sure,  in  the  features  which  we 
have  given  to  them,  but  exactly  in  substance.  Ye  protestors  against 
the  doctrine  of  native  depravity,  explain  this  matter,  if  you  please. 

Doctor  Waddel  knew  well  the  feelings  of  these  youths  towards- 
him,  and  their  worthlessnes.s  of  character  ;  and  he  wa,s  pleased  that 
they  had  .selected  a  residence  which  cut  them  oif  almost  entirely 
from  communication  with  the  other  students,  save  when  they  were 
under  bis  eye.  No  wonder  that  he  had  most  gloomy  forebodino-s 
when  he  saw  a  youth  of  William's  tender  age,  and  bright  promise 
placed  in  daily  and  nightly  intercour.so  with  them. 

Young  teachers  may  caution  a  good,  amiable,  hi;;hly  gifted  boy 
against  associating  with  a  low,  vulgar,  abandoned  Y»uth  of  his  school 
but  an  old  one  never  doc8  j  for  the  plain  reason  that  ninety-nine  in 
the  hundred  good  boys,  instead  Of  thanking  the  teacher  for  his  kind- 
ness, holding  his  counsels  in  confidence,  and  improving  them,  will 
go  right  oft"  to  the  profligate  and  tell  him  all  that  his  teacher  haa 
said  about  him,  render  him  ton  tim's  wors-c  than  he  was  before  in- 
furiate hi.s  parents,  and  spread  the  spirit  of  rcbeilioD  through  the 
whole  school.  Well  for  the  kind  man  if  ho  docs  not  get  his  head 
cracked  by  the  father,  hip.  character  cracked  by  the  mother    anu  his 


166  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEI^. 

*' 
chair  cracked  by  his  patrons  or  trustees.  All  this,  kind  reader,  in 
answer  to  your  question,  "Why  did  not  Dr.  Waddel  tell  the  boy 
frankly  that  Smith  and  Jones  were  unfit  associates  for  him,  and  that 
they  would  ruin  him,  if  he  did  not  leave  them  immediately?"  Doc- 
tor Waddel  well  knew  "  that  there  were  things,"  not  only  "  in  heaven 
and  earth,"  but  in  schools,  "which  never  were  dreamed  of"  in 'the 
world's  "  philosophy."  We  must  not,  however,  take  leave  of  Smith 
and  Jones  without  doing  them  the  justice  to  say,  that  there  were 
two  amiable,  excellent,  intelligent  men,  and  as  many  women  of  like 
character,  whose  opinion  of  them  differed  iota  ccelo  from  ours  :  these 
were  their  fathers  and  mothers. 

On  the  evening  of  the  fifth,  William  Mitten  reported  to  Smith 
and  Jones  all  that  had  passed  between  the  Doctor  and  himself; 
wondering  how  the  Doctor  could  he  so  much  concerned  about  his 
horae  and  his  boarding  at  Newby'e. 

''  I  understand  it,"  said  Smith,  with  expletives,  which  we  omit, 
"  he  and  Newby  arc  in  cahoot.  He  knows  you're  good  pay;  and 
another  thing — he  wants  you  there  near  kini,  where  he  can  be  pok- 
ing his  grey  eyes  and  club  nose  through  the  crack  of  your  house,  of 
nights,  without  much  trouble.  If  I  stayed  there  and  he  was  to 
come  peeping  into  my  house,  I'd  take  a  rsharp  stick  and  punch  out 
his  old  peepers.  I  was  always  taught  to  despise  eaves-droppers,  and 
so  I  do." 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  William,  "  I  see  into  it.  He  thinks  if  he  can  get 
my  horse  away  from  me,  rather  thau  walk  so  far  to  school,  I'll  go 
back  to  Newby's ;  but  he  misses  it  just  a8  much  as  if  he  had  burnt 
his  bhirt.  I  ain't  going  to  quit  the  good  eating  here,  and  the  good 
sleeping  and  easy  living  and  go  back  there,  to  eating  and  sleeping 
and  working  like  a  nigger,  if  my  horse  was  gone." 

*•  Bill,"  Said  Jones,  "  did  you  ever  play  cards  '("  < 

"  0  yes,"  said  Bill,  "  many  a  time."  ^ 

"  I  wish  we  had  a  pack,"  said  Smitli.  "  Wo  burnt  up  ours,  at  the 
cud  of  the  term;  but  if  you'll  lend  mo  your  horse  Saturd'-ay,  I'll  go 
to  Petersburg  and  get  a  pack." 

"  Read  that  paper,"  said  William. 

Smith  read  it. 

•'  Well,  how  will  your  Uncle  know  that  you  lent  him  ?"  pursued 
Smith. 

"  But  I  promised  my  Uncle  solemnly  to  obey  his  orders  about  the 
horse,  and  I  hate  to  violate  my  word.*  It  would  distress  my  mother 
to  death,  if  I  was  to  do  so,  and  she  find  it  out." 


MASTER  WILLIAM  MITl'EN.  167 

"  Well,  are  you  going  to  use  liira  Saturday  ?"  said  .Tones.  "If  jou 
ain't,  I'll  toll  jou  how  we  can  fix  it  elegantly  j  you  just  leave  him  in 
the  stable,  and  I'll  take  him,  without  your  lending  him." 

"  I  thought  I'd  go,  next  Saturday  and  Sunday,  with  Mr.  Waddel, 
if  he  goes,  to  Rocky  River  Church  j  I  must  go  one  time " 

Here  William's  words  were  drowned,  by  most  obstreporous  laughter 
from  his  companions. 

"  But  hear  mo,  hear  me  !"  continued  Bill.  "  Let  me  explain  ! 
You  see,  Uncle  disliked  my  bringing  my  horse  very  much  ;  and 
after  giving  him  all  the  reasons  I  could  think  of  to  let  me  bring 
him,  I  told  him  I  would  like  sometimes  to  go  with  Mr.  Waddel  to 
Rocky  River  Church  !  When  I  said  that,  I  saw  something  iu 
Uncle's  lookvS,  which  made  me  believe  he  thought  I  was  telling  a 
lie " 

"  And  who  the  devil  is  your  Uncle  I"  said  Jones.  ''Do  you  be- 
long to  your  Uncle  T' 

"Jones,  you  mustn't  say  anything  against  my  Uncle— he's  one  of 
the  best  men  in  the  world,  and " 

"  Oh,  go  ou  Bill  J  I  didn't  mean  to  say  anything  a;fain»t  your 
Uncle." 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  I  want  to  go  with  Doctor  Waddel  one 
time,  and  if  I  can  go  before  I  write  my  lirsfc  letter,  and  tell  'em  of  it 
when  I  write,  it  will  convince  Uacle  I  told  the  truth,  please  Mother, 
and  make  thorn  very  willing  Tor  me  to  keep  my  horse  till  Christmas. 
But  if  I  don't,  my  Uncle,  who  watches  everything  like  a  hawk,  will 
have  a  boy  here  after  my  horse  as  soon  as  the  weather  turns  cool." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Jones,  "that's  not  so  bad;  but  take  care  of  old 
Mose,  by  the  way,  or  he'll  have  you  back  to  Newby's  Monday  morn- 
ing, to  a  certainty." 

"  But,"  said  Smith,  "suppose  old  Wad.  does  not  preach*  at  Rocky 
River,  what  will  you  do  with  your  horse  Saturday  and  Sunday  ?" 

"  I  shall  ;-ido  him  to  Vienna,  tu  mail  a  letter—" 

"  That'll  do  ;  when  you  get  to  Vienna,  go  over  to  I'eteisburg,  and 
buy  a  pack  of  cards."  , 

"  liut  my  order.^  are  not  to  ride  my  horse  further  than  Vienna, 
except  to  preaching." 

"  Well,"  said  Smith,  "you  needn't  ride  over  to  Petersburg,  you 
cau  go"there  afoot." 

"  That's  it,"  said  Bill,  snapping  his  fingers  joyously. 

The  evening  passed  off  with  but  little  study. 

William's  claes  usually  recited  to  one  of  the  Assistants,  but  the 


168  MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN". 

nest  morning  it  was  called  before  Doctor  Waddel.  The  Doctor  ar- 
ranged tlie  order  of  recitation,  so  as  to  throw  the  last  part  of  the 
lesson  to  William.  He  had  not  been  over  it,  and  he  bungled 
shamefully.  ' 

"  Why,  William,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  what's  the  matter  with  you? 
I  never  knew  you  to  recite  so  poor  a  lesson.  I'm  afraid  you  don't 
study  at  your  new  boarding  house  as  well  as  you  did  at  your  old 
one." 

William  was  exccssiyely  mortified,  aud  his  classmates  no  less  sur- 
prised. 

After  the  class  retired,  William  enquired  of  Doctor  W^addel, 
whether  he  preached  at  Rocicy  River,  the  next  Sabbath. 

"  No,  my  son,"  said  the  ])octor,  "  but  I  preach  there  the  Sabbath 
after.     Why  do  you  ask  ?     Do  you  think  of  accompanying  me  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  that.  Now  you  are  going  to  make  a  good 
use  of  your  horse.  If  you  never  make  a  worse  use  of  him,  you  will 
do  well." 

Saturday  came,  and  William,  at  an  early  hour  after  breakfast,  was 
off  to  Vienna  to  mail  a  letter.  As  the  letter  was  written  only  to  be 
mailed,  it  of  course  was  not  written  in  his  usual  diffuse,  florid  style ; 
but  what  it  lost  in  beauty,  grace  and  polish,  it  gained  iu  conciseness, 
nerve  and  point.     Here  it  is  : 

Will'n,  Sep.  7. 

*'  Dear  Mother ; — I  just  write  for  fear  you  will  feel  uneasy  if  you 
get  no  letter  from  me  by  this  mail.  Tom  can  tell  you  all  about  me. 
Delighted  with  my  boarding  house — Fare  much  better  than  New's. 
Health  good — Told  Mr.  Wad'l  I  wished  to  go  to  preach'g  with  him, 
if  he  went  to-day,  but  he  don't  go  till  next  Sat'y — Best  love  to  all. 
In  haste  your  af'te  son,  Wm.  M." 

After  mailing  his  letter,  he  went  over  to  Petersburg,  aud  bought  a 
pack  of  cards,  a  tickler  of  peach  brandy,  and  a  plug  of  tobacco.  ^'  My 
son,"  said  the  merchant  as  he  handed  him  the  articles  "  these  are 
ugly  things  for  such  a  youth  as  you  are  to  buy." 

<'  Oh,  I  don't  buy  any  of  them  for  myself,  I  buy  them  for  Mr. 
Smith  and  Mr.  Jones,  who  live  about  nine  miles  from  here." 

The  merchant  knew  William  at  sight  as  the  youth  who  had  dis- 
tinguished himself  so  much  at  the  exhijition,  and  he  naturally  felt 
pained  to  sec  a  boy  of  his  talents  engaged  in  such  a  dangerous  traf- 
fic.    Hence  his  remark,  which  produced  from   Wihiam  one  lie  and 


MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN.  169 

two  truths,  in  consolidated  form.  He  bought  the  cards  for  biraself, 
the  brandy  for  Smith,  and  the  tobacco  for  Jones. 

He  returned  immediately  to  his  residence,  and  spent  the  afternoon 
and  till  twelve  at  night,  playing  cards  and  drinking  peach  brandy. 
The  next  day  be  was  sick.  On  Monday  he  went  to  school,  was 
called  again  to  recite  to  Doctor  Waddel,  and  knew  nothing  of  bis 
lesson.  It  was  rarely  the  case  that  the  Doctor  called  one  of  the  lower 
classes  to  recite  to  him  two  mornings  in  succession. 

'^  What,"  said  be  to  William,  ''  with  all  Saturday,  and  all  Monday 
morning  to  get  your  lesson  in,  come  np  here  and  know  nothing  about 
it,  sir  !     You  don't  stud}?,  sir  !" 

The  Doctor  enquired  of  Mr.  Dobbins 'bow  Riiitb  and  Jones  recited 
that  morning.  "They  didn't  recite  at  all,"  responded  Dobbins, 
"Smith  said  bo  had  been  sick  from  Friday  evening  till  Monday 
morning,  and  Jones  c.imc  up  with  his  jaw  tied  up  in  a  handkerchief, 
and  to;)k  on  as  if  be  w;is  raving  distracted  with  the  tooth-ache.  He 
disturbed  the  class  «o  that  I  excused  him  from  attending  recita- 
tion." 

Tuesday  they  all  appeared  at  school,  as  well  prepared  for  recitation 
as  usual,  but  the  Doctor  beard  none  of  them. 

On  W^ednesday  they  were  not  noticed  until  after  prayer  in  the 
evening.  This  service  over,  he  hauled  a  tickler  out  of  his  pocket, 
and  said  : 

"William  Mitten  come  forward  I"  William  just  had  strength  to 
step  forward,  and  that  was  all. 

"  Do  you  know  this  tickler,  sir  ?" 

"  Ye-e-s,  sir !" 

"Whoscisit?" 

"  It's  Smith's,  sir." 

"You  took  it  to  Petersburg  last  Saturday,  didn't  you,  sir;  and 
got  it  filled  with  peach  brandy?" 

**  Yes,  sir." 

"  Who  did  you  get  it  for  V 

'•Smith,  sir." 

"  Whose  pack  of  cards  is  this?"  asked  the  Doctor,  drawing  a  pack 
from  his  pocket." 

Bill  did  not  require  an  inspection  of  it,  to  give  the  answer  : 

"  It'.s  mine,  sir." 

'<  You  and  Jones  and  Smith  sat  up  late  on  Saturday  night,  play- 
ing  cards  and  drinking  peach  brandy,  didn't  you  V' 

"  W'e— 1— Jo— I  did.  sir." 


170  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEK. 

"  You  did,  sir.     Did  jou  play  cards  by  yourself  till  late  at  night  ? 
— and  drink  all  Smith's  brandy  yourself?" 
"IVosir;  they  drank  some." 

''And  did  they  sit  by  and  help  you  drink,  while  you  played  cards 
by  yourself?" 

"No,  sir;  they  played  toe some." 

"  Perhaps  you  may  think  that  I  got  my  information  of  your  deal- 
ings at  Petersburg,  from  the  merchant  who  sold  you  the  cards,  brandy, 
and  a  plug  of  tobacco.  ]  have  not  seen  him,  and  no  man  in  Peters- 
burg or  Vienna  told  me  a  syllable  about  it.  Alexander  B.  Linton, 
bring  me  sis  tough  hickories  in  the  morning,  suited  to  the  occasion. 
In  the  language  of  Eo^  Piopcr's  composition,  'the  apple  of  discord 
has  been  cast  in  among  us,  and  if  not  speedily  snipt  in  the  bud,  it 
will  inevitably  explode  and  shroud  us  in  the  pitchy  night  of  anarchy 
and  confusion,  and  deluge  the  country  with  fire  and  sword.'  As 
that  apple  is  as  dangerous  to  schools  as  it  is  to  the  country,  I'll  try 
to  nip  it  in  the  bud  effectually,  in  the  morning.  You  are  dismissed." 
As  for  Jones  and  Smith,  nobody  cared  for  them,  but  the  whole 
school  sympathized  with  William.  They  laid  all  his  faults  to  them, 
(rather  more  than  was  due  to  them  by  the  way,)  and  rejoiced  at  the 
retribution  that  was  in  reserve  for  them,  Gilbert  Hay  accompanied 
him  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  on  his  way  to  his  lodgings.  To 
this  point  they  walked  hand  in  hand.  William  leading  his  horse, 
and  both  weeping  bitterly. 

Here  they  stopped,  and  William  broke  silence  : 
"  Gilbert,"  said  he,  "  nothing  gave  me  so  much   pain  in  leaving 
Mr.  Newby's  as  parting  with  you.     How  happy  we  were  in  talking 
together,  working  together,  playing  together,  and  studying  together ! 

I'd  give  ten  thoifeand  millions  of  dollars  if  I  hadn't  left  you " 

"Will,  come  back  now." 

"  It's  too  late  now — I'm  disgraced,  I'm  ruined — I  wish  that  my 
horse  and  Jones  and  Smith  were  all  tumbled  together  in  the  flames 

of  Hell  I Stop  Gilbert ;   don't  leave  me  !" 

''I  will  leave  you,  William,  if  you  talk  in  that  way;  and,  much  as 
I  love  you,  I  must  drop  your  acquaintance,  if  you  use  such  lan- 
guage." 

"  Forgive  me,  Gilbert,  I  hardly  know  what  I  say.  You  have  no 
idea  what  I  suffer" — 

"Why,  it's  no  killing  matter,  to  get  whipped   by  Mr.  Wad " 

*'  Whipped  !  I  don't  mind  the  whipping  at  all,  severe  as  I  know 
it  will  be.     If  cutting  my  legs  to  the  bone  would  just  put  me  back 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN".  171 

to  that  happy  night  I  spent  at  your  house,   I'd  take   it  willingly." 

"  Then  what  is  it  that  distresses  you  bo  ? — You  are  not  the  first  boy 
that  Mr.  Waddcl  has  ever  caught  playing  cards  and  drinking  liquor, 
I  know." 

"  If  I  should  tell  you,  you  never  would  own  me  as  a  friend  or  ac- 
quaintance again."  ' 

'"  Well,  it  can't  be  worse  than  I'll  %hink  it  is,  if  you  don't  tell 
me." 

"  In  less  than  one  short  fortnight,  I  hare  deceived  tho  best  of 
mothers,  the  best  of  uncles ;  forsaken  you,  the  best  of  friends  ;  de- 
spised the  advise  of  the  best  of  teachers;  drank,  gambled  and  lied — 
disgraced  myself  in  my  class,  as  you  know,  and  disgraced  myself  in 
the  eyes  of  all  who  applauded  me  at  the  examination  and  exhibition. 

They  will  hear  of  if Why,'hore'>^  Tom  !     AVhat's  the  matter  at 

home,  Tom  ?" 

"■  Mas'  David  is  very  sick.  He  thinks  he's  going  to  die,  and  he 
wants  to  see  you  before  he  dies.     Here's  a  letter  from  Missis." 

"  Lord  have  mercy  upon  my  pobr  soul  !"  half  shrieked  William. 

''  Can't  I  die  1     Can't  I  die  !     Read  it  Gilbert !"' 

By  the  dim  twilight  be  read  : 

"  All/  Dearest  Boy  :  Two  days  after  you  left  us,  your  Uncle  was 
attacked  with  bilious  fever.  The  attack  is  very  severe,  but  we  hope 
not  fatal.  Last  evening  he  begged  that  you  might  be  sent  for.  Come 
as  quick  as  you  can,  in  mercy  to  your  horse.  The  Doctor  says  there 
is  no  probability  of  his  dying  in  four  or  five  days;  so  do  not  peril  the 
life   of  your  horse,  in  your  haste  to  get  here. 

Your  affectionate  mother,  Anna  Mitten." 

"Oh  Ciilbert  I  Gilbert  !  ]Iow  shall  I  face  a  dying  uncle  and  an  af- 
flicted mother  ?  Show  the  letter  to  Mr.  Waddcl.  Tell  him  I  thank 
him  for  all  his  kindness  to  mo — that  I  never  shall   forget  the  beech 


'•  The  beocli  I     What  docs  that  nie.an,  William  ?" 
"He  knowi? — he  will  toll  you.     Vnrewcll.  my  dearest,  best  class- 
mate !" 

Gilbert  went  immediately  with  the  letter  to  Doctor  Waddel,  and 
delivered  it  with  William's  message  file  Doctor  listened,  read,  and 
walked  the  floor  in  great  agitation  of  mind.  After  a  few  strides  back- 
wards and  forwards,  he  spoke  :  "  It  is  awful,  awful  to  think  of  such  a 
staraS  that  being  eclipsed  just  at  its  rising  I  A  breath  may  change  the 
destiny  of  a  youth  for  time  and  elcmily.     If  ever  there  was  a  boy 


172  MASTEK   WILLIAM.  MIITEN. 

of  more  brilliant  promise  thau  William  Mitten,  three  months  ago,  I 
don't  think  I  ever  saw  him.  And  where  is  he  now  !  Why  is  it  that 
in  the  contact  of  virtue  and  vice,  vice  always  gets  the  advantage — at 
least  with  the  young  ?" 

"  Mr.  Waddel,  Avkat  did  William  mean  by  the  beech  .?" 

"  I'll  take  you  to  it  and  explain,  to-morrow  at  twelve  ;  but  I  little 
dreamed  that  the  catastrop)|e  was  so  near  at  hand  !  At  a  propter 
time,  I  will  write  to  his  uncle, — or  mother,  to  send  him  back.  His 
heart's  in  the  right  place  still,  and  he  may  yet  be  the  pride  of  his 
mother,  the  boast  of  his  teacher,  and  the  glory  of  his  country." 

'^If  you  write,  Mr.  Waddel,  tell  him  I  love  him  yet;  and  that 
the  front  side  of  my  bed  is  waiting  for  him  yet." 

William  wended  his  way  to  his  boarding  house,  slowly  and  sadly. 
On  reaching  it,  he  v.'eut  in  and  informed  the  landlord  of  the  distress- 
ing tidings  from  home,  and  that  he  would  loavc  at  the  dawn  in  the 
morning.  He  refused  supper,  and  walked  towards  the-  study,  near 
the  steps  of  which  Smith  and  Jones  were  standing. 

"  Well,"  said  Smith,  ''you've  stayed  so  long  we  thought  you'd 
run  away.  You've  got  us  into  a  hell  of  a  scrape,  and  you  may  well 
look  sheepish.'' 

"  Smith,  that  boy  has  just  come  for  me — my  Uncle's  at  the  point 
of  death " 

"You're  d nd  lucky,  to  have  a  tick  Uncle  just  at  this  time." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  moulh,  before  the  onset  of  Wil- 
liam's fight  with  Black  was  renewed  precisely;  but  not  with  pre- 
cisely the  sauie  results.  In  his  fall,  Smith's  head  struck  the  corner 
of  a  step,  and  he  came  senseless  to  thc'ground.  Jones,- supposing 
that  he  was  only  a  little  stunned  by  the  fall,  and  that  he  vould  soon 
rally  and  give  William  a  tremendous  beating,  (just  what  he  desired) 
did  not  interpose.  William  supposed  so  too,  Qi.  c,  that  he  would 
soon  rise,)  and  he  resolved  to  improve  the  interim  to  the  best  advan- 
tage. Such  language,  at  such  a  time,  from  such  a  character,  sot  his 
whole  soul  on  fire,  and  inspired  him  with  supernatural  strength  and 
inhumanity.  He  dealt  blow  after  blov*-  upon  the  face,  neck  and  ribs 
of  the  unresisting  Smith,  with  a  force  and  rapidity  that  horrified 
Jones,  and  would  have  astonished  any  one.  It  was  in  vain  that 
Jones  cried  out  "  for  God's  ^ke,  Mitten,  stop,  he's  dead  I"  "  If  he 
isn't  dead,  I'll  kill  him,"  said  Mitten.  Rising  from  the  body,  he 
stamped  Smith  in  the  face  with  his  heavy  nail-pegged  shoes,  and  was 
in  the  act  of  repeating  the  injury,  when  the  landlord  and  Ton^both 
seized  him  and  forced  him  into  the  house.     As  they  dragged  hioi 


MASTEli  WILLIAM   MITTEX,  178 

away,  "  Stop"  said  he,  "  let  me  give  Jones  a  littlo,  and  then  I'll  be 
satisfied.'  He  was  given  in  charge  of  Tom,  while  the  landlord  and 
Jones  took  care  of  Smith.  His  head  was  cut  to  the  bone,  and  the 
wound  was  clogged  up  with  blood  and  dirt.  His  face  was  like  noth- 
ing human.  He  was  washed,  undressed,  and  put  to  bed  ;  but  he  did 
not  recover  his  senses,  though  he  breathed,  and  his  pulse  bent.  There 
was  no  physician  within  miles  of  the  place,  and  the  landlord  did 
not  suppose  it  necessary  to  send  for,^ne  so  far  off,  as  he  deemed  it 
certain  that  Smith  would  die  or  be  out  of  danger  before  he  could 
get  there.  In  a  half  hour's  time  William  became  cool,  and  surren- 
dered himself  to  grief  again.  A  bed  was  prepared  for  him  in  the 
house,  his  trunk  was  brought  in,  he  washed,  changed  his  blood}' 
olothos  for  clean  ones,  packed  such  as  he  needed  in  the  saddle-bags, 
►sent  Tom  to  attend  to  the  horses,  and  threw  himself  on  the  bed  to 
wait,  in  tears,  the  coming  (5awn. 

lu  the  meantime,  Jone.s  and  the  landlord  were  at  the  bedside  of 
Smith,  in  a  state  of  the  mo.5t  intense  anxiety.  The  former  was  in 
tho  deepest  agony.  He  and  Smith  had  agreed  to  run  away  from 
school  the  next  morning.  It  was  further  arranged  that  Smith 
should  give  Mitten  a  sound  dressing  over-night,  because  he  had  not 
managed  his  purchases  in  Petersburg  with  sufficient  cunning  ;  be- 
cause he  had  not  extemporized  lies  according  to  his  talents,  under 
Waddel's  examination  ;  because  he  had  told  the  truth  whero  he 
ought  to  have  told  lies,  and  bungled  even  at  tJio  truth,  and  because 
"he  wanted  whipping  anyhow."  There  was  a  short  debate  between 
them  as  to  which  should  have  the  pleasure  of  chastising  William. 
Smith  said  that  he  was  so  much  over  Hill's  size  and  age,  that  it 
would  look  a  little  mean  in  him  to  do  it. 

''Now  you,  Jones,"  continued  Smith,  'are  just  about  his  weight* 
and  you  are  but  a  little  older  than  he  is;  if  you  would  fan  him  out, 
there  would  be  some  honor  in  it," 

"  Oh,  [  can  whip  him  easy  enough,"  said  . I  ones,  "  and  will  do  it 
if  you  insist  upon  it.  but  he  will  be  rertain  to  bung  up  ray  face  a 
little  at  the  beginning  of  the  fight,  for  you  know  he  can  throw  me 
just  as  fast  as  I  cao  get  up,  and  I  hate  to  go  home  with  my  face 
Bcratched  and  bunged  up.  It  will  be  hard  enough  for  me  to  mak^ 
peace  with  old  John  (his  father)  anyhow.  IJut  you  can  tic  hira — 
you  can  flog  him  without  a  scratch,  and  don't  hurt  hira  much.  It 
would  be  mean  in  a  boy  of  your  size  to  hurt  him  much  j  just  whip  a 
little  common  .sense  in  him." 

The    matter   was   arranged   accordingly;  but  instead  oi' Smith's 


174  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

whipping  a  little  common, sense  into  Bill,  behold  Bill  had  knocked  a 
great  deal  of  ve.ry  common  seiise  out  of  Smith. 

To  run  away  and  leave  Smith  in  his  present  condition  was  not  to 
be  thought  of.  To  remain  with  him  until  after  prayers  the  next 
morning,  would  be  certain  to  awaken  Doctor  Waddel's  curiosity  con- 
cerning the  state  of  his  health,  as  early  as  old  Hector  could  bring 
him  hither;  and  as  his  old  prejudices  had  greatly  strengthened  thai 
day,  he  had  no  disposition  to  en^!ounter  him  anywhere.  From  what 
had  passed  between  him  and  Smith,  there  was  a  fair  implication  that 
if  Smith  did  not  whip  William,  ho  would ;  and  though  Smith  migbt 
not  hold  bim  responsible  for  the  implied  pledge,  he  woixld  be  very 
apt  to  hold  him  responsible  for  allowing  William  to  beat  him  while 
he  was  in  a  state  of  insensibility.  William's  retiring  remark,  too* 
made  him  feel  very  uncomfortable  ;  for  though  he  had  done  notliing 
to  incur  his  wrath  but  sympathise  with  Smith  in  everything,  and 
drop  cue  disrespectful  remark  about  William's  uncle,  aljcady  atoned 
for,  it  was  plain  that  William's  niiifd  wa.s  not  in  a  condition  to  allow 
the  proper  credits,  in  closing  up  his  uncle's  claims.  He  was  very 
certain  that  William  woukl  sleep  none  that  night,  and  if  he  should 
conclude  to  come  out  a  little  before  day  and  give  him  a  parting  bles- 
sing wlien  all  v^^cre  asleep  but  the  two,  it  would  be — very  ill-timed, 
to  say  the  least  of  it.  So  that,  upon  the  whole,  none  of  the  house- 
hold spent  a  more  uncomfortable  night  of  it  than  poor  Jones  did. 
To  have  got  rid  of  the  troubles  of  that  single  uight,  he  would 
have  been  perfectly  willing  to  sign  a  written  pledge  to  love  "  old 
Moses  "  all  his  life,  elegantlt/,  and  to  accompany  him  to  Rocky  River 
Church  monthly,  during  the  term  of  his  pupilage. 

Smith  did  not  come  fully  to  himself  until  about  twelve  o'clock. 
When  he  recovered  his  mind,  and  saw  with  but  one  eye  (for  he 
could  not  open  the  other,  and  one  not  fully,)  Jones  and  the  landlord 
keeping  watch  over  him.  his  shirt  all  bloody,  and  found  himself  in 
pain  all  over,  "  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  mo  ?"  muttered  he  from 
two  hideously  swollen  lips. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Jones,  ''  lie  .still   and   be   quiet  till  morning, 
and  we'll  tell  you  all  about  it." 
^  While  Jones  was  talking,  Smith  was  feeling  his  face  and  head. 

"  Why,  how  did  I  get  in  this  fix  ?"  enquired  he,  "  I'm  in  a  dread- 
ful fix — my  back,  hip,  head  and  i^ice  all  pain  me  awfully.  Jones, 
tell  me  who  treated  me  so.  Have  I  been  out  of  my  head  ?  What 
o'clock  is  it  ?" 

"  Never  mind,   Smith — never  mind,"  said  Jones,  "  you'll  soon  be 


MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN.  176 

over  it  if  you'll  be  quiet.     Lie  still  till  morning,  and   we'll  explain 
all  things  to  your  satisfaction." 

"  Didn't  Mitten  clinch  me  ?  Did  he  strike  mo  with  a  stick  ?  He 
couldn't " 

"  Oh,  go  to  sleep,  go  to  sleep,  Smith,  and  quit  talking.  A  bad 
accident  has  happened  to  you.  and  you  must  be  quiet,  or  tiiere's  no 
telling  what'U  come  of  it." 

"  I  don't  recollect  anything  after  he  clinched  me;  but  it's  impossi- 
ble he  could  'have  hurt  me  so  bad.     Is  he  gone  V 

"  Yes,''  said  Jones,  "  he's  gone  long  ago — he  didn't  do  it — it  was 
an  accident,  I  tell  you.  and  you  must  be  quiet,  and  not  talk,  or  you 
may  lose  your  life."' 

In  this  way  Smith  was  quieted,  dropped  to  sleep,  and  did  not  wake 
until  an  hour  by  sun  the  next  morning,  when  William  was  ten  miles 
on  his  way  homeward. 

By  ten   o'clock  Doctor  Waddel  was  at  3Ir. *s.     The  whole 

matter  was  explained  to  him.  He  told  Jones  to  stay  with  Smith, 
and  nurse  hiinuntil  he  wus  able  to  walk  to  school.  Jones  did  so; 
but  instead  of  walking  to  school,  they  walked  home — or  rather 
walked  to  where  they  could  get  horses  to  ride  home.  It  was  the 
Doctor's  habit  to  follow  runaways  and  bring  them  back,  but  he  was 
too  glad  to  get  rid  of  these  gentlemen  to  do  so  in  this  instance. 

"William's  purchase  in  Peter.-ibuvg  soon  became  the  town  talk,  for 
almost  everybody  in  town  knew  him  as  the  bright  boy  of  the  exhi- 
bition, and  everybody  deplored  the  indications  of  ruin  that  his  pur- 
chases gave.  The  talk  soon  spread  from  Petersburg  to  Willington, 
and  from  Willington  to  Doctor  Waddel's  ears.  He  went  immediate- 
ly to  Mitten's  room,  whore  he  found  the  cards  and  tickler  uncon- 
cealed, and  surpri;^ed  Mitten  with  them,  as  we  have  seen.  Thus  did 
he  possess  himself  •f  the  few  facts,  from  which  he  drew  out  of  Wil- 
liam all  that  the  trio  had  done  after  the  cards  and  brandy  reached 
their  room.  He  explained  to  young  Hay,  according  to  his  promise, 
William's  reference  to  the  beech,  the  import  of  which  William  fully 
understood  after  his  disgrace.  What  a  lamentable  thing  it  is,  that 
there  is  no  way  of  inducing  the  3'oung  to  follow  the  counsels  of  the 

old : 


CHAPTER   XX. 

Captain  Thompson  breathed  his  last  but  a  few  minutes  before  Wil- 
liam reached  his  habitation.  We  need  hardly  say  that  he  died  hap- 
pily— he  died  triumphantly — not  shouting,  simply  because  in  his  last 
momenta,  he  had  not  strength  to  shout,  but  whispering  ''Glory, 
Glory,  Glory  !" 

William's  entry  into  the  death-chamber,  served  but  to  embitter 
the  griefs  of  all  who  filled  it.  A  little  while  before  Captain  Thomp- 
son expired,  he  said,  "  I  have  been  looking  anxiously  for  William — 
I  wished  to  give  him  my  last  counsels,  as  I  have  given  them  to  the 
older  children,  [his  own  and  his  sister's]  but  it  is  now  too  late.  Tell 
him,  Anna,  my  last  words  to  him  were,  '  Love,  honor,  cherish  and 
obey  your  mother.'  "  These  sentences  were  uttered  amidst  rests  at 
every  three  or  four  words. 

Deep  and  all-prevailing  a.s  was  the  grief  around  the  death-bed  of 
the  uncle,  the  entry  of  the  nephew  startled  every  one,  and  nearly 
overpowered  his  mother.  Anguish  of  mind,  loss  of  sleep,  absti- 
nence from  food,  and  fatigue  from  travel,  had  wrought  the  greatest 
change  in  his  appearance,  that  perhaps  ever  had  been  wrought  in  a 
youth  of  his  ago,  unvisited  by  disease.  lie  walked,  or  rather  tot- 
tered to  the  corpse,  kissed  its  cold  lips,  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands,  shrieked,  and  sunk  to  the  floor.  The  I)octor  who  had  not 
yet  lett  the  room,  raised  him  up,  advised  that  he  be  removed  from 
the  scene  of  grief  to  a  bed  in  another  apartment,  and  he  assisted  in 
effecting  what  he  advised.  He  returned  and  reported  to  Mrs.  Mit- 
ten that  William  needed  medieal  aid,  for  that  "he  was  quite  unwell." 
She  hastened  to  his  bed  side  \yith  the  physician,  and  found  him  in  a 
high  fever.  He  was  prescribed  for,  and  carried  home  as  soon  as 
possible.  Her  forebodings  of  some  great  calamity  had  been  realized 
in  the  death  of  her  brother;  but  she  now  believed  that  her  son 
would  soon  follow  him ;  and  her  agony  of  soul  can  be  better  con- 
ceived than  described.  Still  she  bore  her  afflictions  like  a  christian  ; 
with  no  other  demonstrations  of  grief  than  streaming  eyes,  deep- 
drawn  sigh.«,  and  saddened  countenance. 

A  few  weeks  before  Captain  Thompson's  death,  he  and  fire  or  six 
other  gentlemen  of  the  village  had,  upon  Mr.  Markham's  suggestion, 
agreed  to  furnish  the  means  for  giving  John  Brown  a  collegiate  edu- 
cation. Mr.  Markham,  after  having  taught  John  gratuitously  from 
the  day  that  he  acquitted  himself  so  creditably  at  the  exhibition,  set 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  177 

on  foot  this  benevoleut  enterprise,  and  was  himself  the  largest  con- 
tributor to  it.  How  this  excellent  inan  came  to  enlist  so  warmly 
and  efficiently  in  John's  favor,  is  worthy  of  record.  A  short  vaca- 
tion followed  the  exhibition,  and  at  the  opening  of  the  terra  John 
was  missing  from  school.  At  twelve  o'clock,  Mr.  Markham  went  to 
his  mother's  to  learn  the  cause  of  his  absence.  He  found  John  seat- 
ed on  the  door-step,  weeping  bitterly. 

"  Well,  John,"  said  be,  "what's  the  matter,  son  T' 

"  Mammy  says  she  can't  send  me  to  school  any  more." 

-'■  Why,  tliat's  bad  ;  but  1  reckon  you  wouldn't  study  much,  if  she 
was  to  send  you  again." 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  would  ;  I'd  study  harder  than  ever  I  did  in  all  my 
life.     You  should  never  have  to  whip  me  again,  as  long  as  you  live." 

"  Why,  that  would  be  a  wonderful  improvement,  John,  for  I've 
generally  had  to  whip  you  at  least  twice  a  week,  ever  since  you  first 
came  to  me." 

"  I  know  that,  sir,  because  I  didn't  care  about  going  to  school  at 
first;  but  now  I  want  to  go  to  school ;  and  if  I  could  go  back,  you'd 
never  have  to  whip  me  again,  I  know  you  wouldn't." 

By  this  tiniL^,  Mrs.  Brown  was  at  the  door. 

"  Walk  in,  Mr.  Markham  !"  said  she,  "  I  never  did  see  a  boy  take 
on,  so  .about  going  to  school,  as  Joha  has  all  the  morning,  in  all  my 
born  daj's.  'Twas  much  as  I  could  do  to  get  him  off  to  school  be- 
fore ;  but  now  he  takes  on  at  sitch  a  r.ite  to  go  to  school,  that  I  can't 
help  feeling  na'trally  right  sorry  for  him." 

"  Well,  why  won't  you  let  him  go,  Mrs.  Brown  ?" 

"Well,  Mr.  Markham,  ra'lly  the  truth  is,  I  an't  able  to  pay  his 
.schoolin'.  You  know  mighty  well  what  my  husband  is,  and  therefore 
'taint  worth  while  to  be  mealy-mouthed  about  it;  he  jist  na'trally 
drinks  up,  e'en  about  every  little  that  I  Ciin  rake  together,  th.at  he 
can  lay  his  hands  on.     He's  a  good  hearted,  clever,  hard-working 

man,  when  he's  sober;  but  he's  all  the  time  drunk 'tan't  worth 

while  for  me  to  be  tryiu'  to  hide  it  from  you,  Mr.  Markham  ;  every 
body  knows  it.  'Cept  the  time  Judge  Yearly  put  him  in  jail  for 
gwine  into  court  drunk  as  a  jurior,  he's  hardly  drawn  one  sober  breath 
since,  and  you  know,  Mr.  Markham,  it's  mighty  hard  for  one  poor 
lone  woman  like  me  to  got  along  with  three  little  children,  and  a 
drunken  husband  besides.      Seems  to  me  sometimes  that   I   should 

na'trally  jist  give  up.     And  I  b'lieve  I Oh  yes,  I  know  I  would — 

ha'  give  up  long  ago,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  your  wife,  and  five  or  six 
other  good  ladies  in  town,  who've  holp  rae  mightily.     But  after  all  I 


178  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

could  do,  I  couldn't  do  more  than  jist  rake  up  money  enough  to  pay 
for  what  little  schooliu'  I  could  give  him,  since  he's  been  to  you.  I 
think  Johnny  would  take  larning  mighty  well  if  he  had  a  chance. 
You  know  he  did  mighty  well  at  your — at  your — show.  People  took 
on  mightily  at  Johuuy's  doins'  that  day,  and  I  wish  he  could  have  a 
chance  to  git  more  larning,  but  I  an't  able  to  give  it  to  him — it's  a 
fact — I  an't  able  to  do  it,  Mr.  Markham,  and  I  may  as  well  jist  tell 
the  plain,  naked  truth  about  it." 

"Well,  Mrs.  Brown,  your's  is  really  a  right  hard  case.  How  long 
could  you  spare  John  to  go  to  school,  if  it  cost  you  nothing  to  send 
him?" 

"  Oh,  la  messy  5  that  would  be  the  onliest  thing  in  the  world  for 
Johnny.  I'd  be  mighty  williu"  for  him  to  stay  till  he  gets  clean 
through  for  my  part,  and  be  glad  of  it.  It  would  be  a  mighty  great 
thing  if  Johnny  could  git  larnin' enough  to  keep  a  school  himself, 
now  wouldn't  it,  Mr.  Markham  't  lou  must  make  a  heap  0'  money 
at  it,  havin'  so  many  scholars  as  you  always  have,  and  gittiu'  your 
money  every  quarter  V 

"  But  if  I  take  John  to  teach  him,  won't  your  husband  take  him 
away  from  me  before  he  gets  through  ?" 

"Oh,  la,  no!  He  has  nothin'  to  do  with  the  children,  nohow, 
poor  drunken  creater  I     Besides,  he  shouldn't  do  it." 

"But  how  would  you  prevent  him  !" 

"  I  could  prevent  him  easy  enough.  Do  you  think  I'd  let  him, 
who  don't  do  a  hand's  stirrin'  towards  feediu'  and  clothiu'  my  child- 
ren, take  one  of  tlicm  away  from  gettin'  larnin'  for  nothin'  ?  No, 
sir,  he'd  no  more  dare  to  do  it  than  he'd  put  his  hand  in  the  fire." 

"Well,  Mrs.  Brown,  if  you'll  promise  me  that  you  won't  take  John 
away  till  he  gets  through,  and  that  your  husband  shall  not,  I'll  take 
John,  and  if  he  will  behave  himself,  I'll  make  him  a  great  scholar — 
able  to  keep  any  sort  of  a  school.  I'll  furnish  all  his  books  for  him, 
and  teach  him,  and  it  shan't  cost  you  a  cent." 

"  Yes,  that  I  do  promise  for  both Hehave  himself !  If  he  don't, 

I  reckon  you  know  how  to  make  him  ;  and  if  i/ou  can't,-  jest  send 
him  home  to  me,  and  I'll  give  him  such  a  cawhallopin',  that  I'll  be 
bound  he'll  never  misbehave  again  while  his  head's  hot,  to  a  man 
that's  done  so  "much  for  him." 

"  Well,  send  him  over  to  school  in  the  morning,  and  we'll  see  what 
we  can  do  for  him." 

While  this  conversation  was  in  progress,  John's  eyes  expanded 
from  a  couple  of  cracks  to  a  couple  of  pretty  respectable  key  holes, 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  179 

and,  at  the  conclusion  of  it,  he  commenced  patting  his  foot  and 
snapping  his  fingers  in  unspeakable  delight.  As  Mr.  Markham  was 
retiring,  "  Stop  a  little,  3Ir.  Markham,"  said  ^Irs.  Brown.  He 
stopped. 

^'  Where's  your  manners,  sir,"  continued  she  to  John.  "  Make  a 
bow  to  Mr.  Markham,  and  thank  him  for  what  he's  gwine  to  do  for 
you  !" 

John  gaTC  Mr.  Markham  a  bow  of  his  own  teaching,  excellent  for 
the  stage,  but  quite  too  formal  for  the  signal  of  private  thanksgiv- 
ing, under ^Mrs.  Brown's  dictation.  lie  delivered  himse'f,  however, 
in  Ilia  own  language  : 

"  Mr.  Markham,  I'm  very  much  obleegcd " 

''  (96%a/,  John." 

Mrs.  B.  "  What,  ha\  f  you  been  gwinc  to  school  all  this  time 
and  don't  know  how  to  call  words  yet  !" 

Mr.  M.     '•  ffohn's  is  a  very  commofl  mistake." 

John,  conceiving  that  his  bow  and  his  thanks  had  got  too  far  apart, 
repeated  his  bow  as  before,  and  commenced  again  : 

''  Mr.  I^Iarkham,  I'm  very  much  oUl'jed  to  you  for  yonr  goodness. 
I  always  said  you  was " 

''   Were.,  John." 

''  I  always  said  you  irrr^.  the  best  man  I  ever  seen." 

"  aSot?;-,  .John."  » 

3[rs.  B.  "  Why,  that  buy  don't  know  no  better  how  to  talk  than 
mo,  who  han't  had  no  schoolin'  at  all." 

''  Well,  never  mind,  never  mind,  John,"  said  Mr.  Markham,  fear- 
ing John  would  go  back  to  his  bow  and  begin  again.  ''  Your  heart's 
right,  my  boy,  and  I'll  soon  set  your  tongue  right.  Mrs.  Brown, 
you're  going  to  aee  John  a  big  man  some  of  these  days."  So  saying, 
uc  retired  in  haste — in  haste  for  two  reasons :  the  one  was,  that  he 
might  relievo  himself  from  the  laughter  Avith  which  he  had  been 
filling  up  from  the  beginning  to  tlic  end  of  the  interview  ;  and  the 
other  was.  to  di>cnibarras.»  John,  \vhr»,  between  his  c-orrcctious,  and 
his  mother's  comments, was  likely  to  become  inextricably  bewildered. 

John  wa.s  the  first  boy  at  school  the  next  morning  j  and  thence- 
forward .Mr.  Markham  never  had  cause  to  correct  him,  or  even  to  i*c- 
provc  him.  He  soon  became  one  of  the  best  bcholars  in  the  school^ 
distingui.vhed  himself  at  cveiy  examination  and  e.xhibition,  and  in 
a  short  time  became  such  a  popular  favorite  that  when  .Mr.  Markham 
proposed  to  the  citizens  to  unite  in  raising  a  fund  to  give  hiui  a  libe- 
ral education,  he  had  not  the  least  difficulty  in  finding  the  requisite 
number  of  contributors. 


180  MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN. 

Just  before  Captain  Tlioiupson's  last  sickness,  the  arrangement  had 
been  made  for  David  Thompson,  George  Markham  and  John  Brown, 
to  leave  for  Princeton  College,  N.  J.,  on  the  lOth  of  the  ensuing 
November.  Princeton  was,  at  that  time,  in  the  South  at  least,  the 
most  renowned  College  in  the  Union.  Captain  Thompson  appointed 
Mr.  Markham  one  of  the  executors  of  his  will,  and  authoHzed  him 
to  appropriate  any  sum  out  of  his  estate  that  he  might  deem  ueces- 
sary,  to  the  education  of  John  Brown,  not  exceeding  one  hundred 
dollars  per  annum.  He  ako  appointed  Mr.  Markham  testamentary 
guardian  of  his  two  sons,  David  and  Ueorge,  until  the  completion  of 
their  education  ;  dire'cting  that  "  in  all  matters  touching  the  educa- 
tion of  his  two  sons,  should  a  difterence  of  opinion  arise  between  his 
wife  [his  other  representative]  and  Mr.  Markham,  his  judgment 
should  be  decisive." 

x\.fter  an  illness  of  two  weeks,  William  Mitten  recovered,  and  at 
the  end  of  four,  his  health  whs  entirely  restored.  About  this  time, 
his  mother  said  to  him  : 

"  William,  isn't  it  time  for  you  to  think  of  returning  to  Dr.  Wad- 
del's?" 

"  Mother,"  said  he,  "  I  can  never  go  back  to  Dr.  Wuddel's." 

"What !"  exclaimed  she,  horror-stricken,  "  Oh,  my  dear,  depart- 
ed brother !  Is  this  affliction  to  be  added  to  the  thousand  that  thy 
death  has  cost  fte  ?" 

"  No,  mother,  if  uncle  were  alive,  he  never  could  induce  me  tore- 
turn  to  Dr.  Waddel's.  I  feared  him,  I  loved  him,  I  adored  him,  to 
the  day  of  his  death.  If  I  could  have  saved  his  life  by  having  my 
right  arm  chopped  oif,  I  would  have  done  it  freely;  but  uncle  could 
never  have  induced  me  to  go  back  to  Willington." 

"William,  in  mercy  to  me,  tell  me  quickly,  why  V  , 

"  Because  I  have  disgraced  myself  there." 

"  .Disgraced  yourself  there  !  Oh,  how  little  we  poor  mortals  know 
what  to  pray  for  I  Would  that  you  had  died  on  the  bed  from  which 
you  have  just  risen  ! — No,  my  heavenly  Father,  pardon  me  ! — In 
disgrace  you  were  not  fit  to  die ;  in  disgrace  you  are  not  fit  to  live. 
William,  let  me  know  the  worst — don't  keep  me  a  moment  longer  in 
suspense,  if  you  have  any  respect  for  me — I  may  he  able  to  survive 
the  disclosure,  if  you  make  it  immediately :  I  may  not  be  able  to 
survive  it,  if  you  keep  me  a  few  days  in  this  agony  of  suspense." 

"  I  have  lied,  1  have  gambled,  I  have  drank,  acd  been  detected  iu 
all,  and  exposed  before  the  whole  school " 

'<  Is  that  all,  ? — is  that  the  worst !" 


MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN,  181 

"Yes,  uia'aiiij  that's  the  worst:  and  I  ilon't  know  what  could  be 
worse." 

"Bad  enough — bad,  indeed;  but  it  might  have  been  worse.  I 
liave  nothing  to  say  in  defence  of  these  sins ;  but  liow  did  you  rush 
into  them  so  speedily,  after  your  return  ?" 

"  That  infern — ,  that  abominable  horse  !" 

''  How  could  lie  have  involved  you  in  this  .•^cries  of  offences,  in  so 
short  a  time?" 

WilliaiM  gave  his  u'Other  a  full  and  tiuthful  account  of  all  the  dif- 
ficulties in  which  his  horse  had  involved  him.  "When  he  had  con- 
cluded, she  resumed : 

'•  I  was  sure  that  things  had  been  going  wrong  with  you,  from  the 
brief  letter  you  wrote, ^and  which  did  not  reach- me  until  some  days 
after  your  return.  It  bore  the  marlcs  of  great  carelcf-sncss  and  want 
of  feeling." 

"  That  letter  was  part  of  the  deceit  which  I  began  to  practice  on 
you  and  Uncle  before  I  left  here,  and  which  I  was  carrying  on.  when 
I  was  detected  by  Mr.'Waddel." 

"  Well,  William,  you  have  learned  from  short,  but  sad  experience, 
the  consequences  of  vice  ;  and  now  abandon  it  forever.  I  am  under 
inexpressible  obligatioDS  to  Mr.  Waddel,  for  his  vigilance  in  arrest- 
iiig  you  in  it,  before  it  could  become  a  habit  with  jou.  And,  now, 
my  advice  to  you  is,  to  return  to  his  school,  do  your  first  works  over 
again,  and  retrieve  your  character,  as  you  soon  will,  where  you  lost  it." 

"  No,  mother,  I  cannot  go  back  there  ;  I'd  rather  die  than  do  it." 

"  Well,  what  will  you  do,  my  son  "i'     What  school  will  you  go  to  ?" 

"  i  don't  care  about  going  into  any  school.  If  you  arc  willing,  I 
will  go  into  a  st<5rc  as  a  clerk?" 

"  Mercy  on  me,  William  !  Close  up  all  your  bright  prospects — 
bury  your  brilliant  talents  among  goods  and  groceries  !  No,  my  son, 
I  never  can  consent  to  that." 

"Why,  ma;  almost  all  the  mercliantsin  town  began  as  clerks,  and 
see  how  rich  and  respectable  they  are  !" 

"But  Providence  has  given  you  talents  above  this  calling!" 

"  My  talents  have  done  rcc  very  little  good  as  yet,  and  I  doubt  f* 
whether  they  ever  will  do  me  any.  What  good  will  Latin  and  Greek 
do  me  ?  Nob#dy  speaks  Latin  and  Greek.  I  don't  see  any  good  in 
anything  hardly,  that  we  learn  at  echool.  1  think  I  had  better  stay 
here  with  you,  and  take  care  of  30U,  and  be  trying  to  get  an  honest 
living,  than  to  be  running  off  to  echool,  where  I  will  be  constantly 
under  temptations." 


182  KASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

"  Well,  my  sou,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  force  iu  your  remarks.  It 
will  cost  a  hard  struggle  to  give  up  my  fond  hopes  of  your  future 
distinction  ;  but  I  can  easily  reconcile  myself  to  your  position  in  life 
as  a  respectable,  wealthy,  private  citizen.  It  will  be  a  great  comfort 
to  have  you  all  the  time  with  me.  But  let  us  think  a  while  longer 
before  we  decide  upon  this  matter." 

While  it  was  held  under  advisement,  Doctor  Waddel's  promised 
letter  arrived.  After  tender  expressions  of  condolence  with  Mrs. 
Mitten  and  her  brother's  family  in  their  recent  bereavement,  it  con- 
tinued : 

"  But  the  main  object  of  this  letter  is  to  offer  your  son  encourage- 
ments to  return  to  school.     He  left  here  under  great  depression  of 
spirits,  and  under  the  impression  that  his  character  was  irretrievably 
lost.     No  one  in  this  vicinity,  in  or  out  of  the  school,  thinks  so.  Now 
that  the  story  of  his  misfortunes  is  fully  understood,  every  one  at- 
tributes them  to  a  train  of  untoward    circumstances  which  surround- 
ed him,  on  his  return  hither,  rather  than  to  depravity  of  heart.     In- 
deed, he  has   some  noble  traits  of  character,  which  almost  entirely 
conceal  his  faults  from  the  eyes  of  the  public  and  his  school-fellows — 
I  say  the  j^vhlic,  for  though  it  is  a  very  uncommon  thing  for  the  pub- 
lic to  know  or  notice   school-boy  delinquencies,  yet  so  wide-spread 
was  William's  reputation  from  his  performances  at  our  last  Examina- 
tion and  Exhibition,  that  every  one  who  knows  him  take.-;  an  inter- 
est in  him,  and  every  one,  I  believe,  regards  him  with  more  of  sym- 
pathy than  censure.     All  would  rejoice,  I  doubt  not,  to   hear  of  his 
return  to  the  school,  and  his  return  to  his  good  habits.     Gilbert  Hay, 
his  room-mate  and  bed-fellow,  bids  mc  say  that  he  loves  him  yet,  and 
that  the  half  of  his  bed  is  still  reserved  for  him;  and  the  feelings  of 
Gilbert  Hay  towards  him,  I  believe,  are   the  feelings  of  nine-tenth? 
of  the  school  towards  him.     For  myself,   1  shall  give  him  a  cordial 
welcome.     But  you  will   naturally   ask,  what  will  be  my  dealings 
with  him,  if  he  return  ?     I  answer  the  question  very  frankly:  I  shall 
feel  myself  bound  to   correct  him;  though  iu  so  doing  T  shall  not 
forget  the  many  circumstances  of  extenuation  in  his  case.     Had  he 
been  guilty  of  but  one  offence,  and  that  of  a  vencal  nature,  I  should 
freely  forgive  it,  as  is  my  custom,  with  the  first  offence.     But  he  has 
been  guilty  of  several  offences,  and  though  none  of  them  are  very 
rare  in  schools,  they  are,  nevertheless,  such  as  I  have  never  allowed  to 
go  unpunished  in  my  school,  and  which  I  could  not  allow  to  escape 
with  impunity  in  this  instance,  without  setting  a  dangerous  prece- 
dent, as  well  as  showing  marked  partiality.    I  have  reason  to  believe 


MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN.  IfiS  * 

that  William  would  cheerfully  submit  to  the  punishment  of  his 
faults,  even  though  it  were  much  severer  than  it  will  be,  if  that 
would  restore  him  to  his  lost  position  ;  now,  I  can  hardly  conceive 
of  anything  better  calculated  to  have  that  effect,  than  his  volunteer- 
ing to  take  the  punishment  which  he  knows  awaits  him  on  his  re- 
turn, when  he  might  perchance  avoid  it  by  abandoning  the  school. 
But  with  or  without  the  punishment,  he  has  only  to  be,  for  ten 
months,  what  he  has  been  for  yearly  as  many,  to  regain  the  confi- 
dence of  everybody.  Nothing  but  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  this 
case,  and  the  very  lively  interest  whieh  I  take  in  the  destiny  of  your 
highly-gifted  son,  could  have  induced  mo  to  write  a  letter  so  liable 
to  misconstruction,  as  this  is.  But  brief  as  is  our  acquaintance,  I 
think  you  wili  credit  me,  when  I  assure  you,  that  my  own  pecuniary 
interest  has  had  no  more  to  do  with  it,  than  yours  will  have  in  delib- 
erating upon  its  contents.  Verily,  the  loss  or  gain  of  a  scholar  is 
nothing  to  Your  sincere  friend  and  ob't  serv't, 

MosKS  Waddel. 

CHAPTER  XXL 

So  delighted  was  Mrs.  Mitten  with  the  first  part  of  Dr.  Waddel's 
letter,  that  she  rushed  with  it  half  read  to  her  son,  and  recommenced 
the  reading  for  his  edification  and  comfort.  With  the  close  of  al- 
most evefy'  sentence,  she  would  ejaculate,  "  Dear,  good  man  P' 
"  Ifotc  kind!"  "  Such  a  mmi  is  a  nationml blessing !"  "  Who  tan 
help  loving  him .'"  But  when  she  came  to  the  whipping  part,  she 
was  unable  to  read  without  comments,  and  with  becoming  compo- 
sure. Having  finished  the  perusal,  "  Well,"  said  she,  "  upon  the 
whole,  it  is  a  sweet  letter;  but  I  cannot  see  the  necessity  of  his 
whipping  a  boy  of  your  size  a  month  after  the  tffence  is  committed, 
and  when  he  himself  admits  that  there  are  so  many  circumstances  of 
extenuation  in  the  case.  If  everybody  else  is  ready  to  forgive  and 
forget,  why  might  not  he  ?  But,  William,  as  these  arc  the  only 
terms  upon  which  you  can  get  back  and  save  your  credit,  I  think 
you  had  better  go.  I  will  write  to  Mr.  Waddel,  informing  him  of 
your  deep  contrition,  and  begging  him  if  he  can  possibly  pass  over 
the  offence  without  correction,  consistently  with  his  sense  of  duty, 
to  do  so  ;  but  if  not,  then  in  the  midst  of  justice,  to  remember  mer- 
cy. Surely,  under  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  the  purposes  of 
justice  would  be  as  fully  answered  by  two  or  three  stripes,  as  by " 

"  Two  or  three  stripes  !"  said  Bill,  "why,  he  gives  double  that  for 
simple  idleness}  and  if  he  were  to  let  ^me  off  with  two  or  three 


'*  184  MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN. 

stripes,  I'd  bring  home  the  marks  of  them  next  July.  I'd  rather 
take  ten  such  as  he  commonly  gives  in  the  summer  time,  when  the 
boys  wear  thin  breeches,  than  three  such  as  he  gave  one  boy  named 
Sapling,  ^vhen  he  found  his  legs  v^rapped  up  with  strips  of  shirt.  If 
I  go  back,  and  h(^lets  me  off  with  less  than  ten  peelers,  or  fifteen  of 
the  common  sort,  I  shall  think  myself  lucky." 

''  Oh,  William,  you  make  Mr.  Waddel  a  perfect  enigma  ;  how 
could  a  man  of  his  kindness  of  heart,  be  so  inhuman  I" 
'  *'  He  doesn't  think  it  inhuman  to  whip  students  who  violate  his 
laws;  but  it  is  not  worth  while  to  talk  about  it,  ma,  for  I'm  not 
going  back  to  Mr.  Waddel's.  As  to  the  whipping,  I  shouldn't  mind 
that,  so  very  much,  if  I  could  believe  that  I  would  be  put  back  to 
where  I  was  before  I  committed  the  offences;  but  I  know  that  that 
can  never  be." 

"WqII,  my  son,  I  hardly  know  what  to  advise.  You  surely  were 
born  under  an  unlucky  star.  Alwa^-s,  always  there  is  something 
which  obstructs  the  way  which  seems  best  for  you  to  pursue.  How 
unfortunate  was  it  that  your  uncle  gave  you  that  horse  !  How  much 
more  unfortunate,  that  you  did  not  accept  his  offer  for  him  before 
vour  return  to  Willington  !  Oh  !  were  he  now  in  life  I  would  sur- 
render you  to  his  government,  and  never  have  an  opinion  of  my  own 
upon  it,  during  your  minority.  But  in  this  single  instance  of  ^jiving 
you  the  horse — and  there  he  soon  saw  his  error,  and  did  all  that  he 
could  do  to  correct  it — his  views  have  always  proved  right,  while 
mine,  however  carefully  taken,  invariably  turn  out  unfortunately." 

"  Well,  ma,  you  may  console  yourself  with  this  reflection,  that  if 
Uncle  David  were  alive,  he  could  not  Ibrcc  me  back  to  Mr.  Wad- 
del's." 

"  Yes,  William,  if  he  were  alive,  and  felt  convinced  that  your  fu- 
ture destiny  hung  upon  it,  you  would  have  to  go.  He  would  have 
reasoned  with  you,  he  would  have  persuaded  you,  at  first;  but  if  he 
found  these  means  unavailing,  he  would  liave  carried  you  back  to 
school  at  all  hazards.  Jlut  it  is  in  vain  to  talk  of  supposed  cases.  I 
cannot  do  what  he  might  have  done.  What  say  you,  will  you  go  back 
or  not?" 

"  No,  ma'am;  never,  never,  never  !" 

"  William,  my  feelings  are  against  your  going,  but  my  convic- 
tions are  strong  and  pungent  that  you  ought  to  go.  Something 
whispers  me  that  if  you  go,  you  will  be  great ;  if  you  do  not,  you 
will  be  ruined.  Will  you  submit  to  Mr.  Markham's  advice  in  the 
matter?" 


MASTER  WILl.IAM   MITTEN.  185 

"  No,  ma  ;  I've  thought  the  matter  all  over,  and  I've  made  up  my 
mind,  cooll}-  and  doliberately,  never  to  go  back  to  Mr.  Waddel's." 

Now  the  truth  of  the  matter  ies.'that  though  Master  Mitten,  while 
suffering  the  first  tortures  of  his  exposed  guilt,  and  supposed  dis- 
grace, would  very  readily  have  subnutted  to  a  sererc  whipping,  to 
have  regained  his  lost  ground  ;  as  he  became  more  familiar  with  his 
disgrace,  it  began  to  set  very  easily  on  him,  while  the  u-hipping  as- 
sumed a  new  interest  in  his  cogitations,  and  became  more  and  more 
imposing,  as  the  disgrace  became  loss  and  less  distressing  :  so  that 
when  the  consultation  occurred  which  we  have  just  noticed,  the 
whipping  crowded  clean  out  of  Master  Mitten's  mind,  every  other 
consideration.  It  brought  him,  therefore,  to  a  very  decided  judgment 
from  which  nothing  could  move  him  which  lay  within  the  range  of 
his  mother's  devices.  And  yet  there  was  a  lady  living  within  three 
hundred  yards  of  Mrs.  Mitten's  house,  a  beneficiary  of  hers,  who 
did  not  know  A  from  a  deer's  track,  who  would  have  managed  the 
case  to  perfection  without  the  help  of  Mr.  Markharn.  That  woman 
was  no  other  than  Mrs.  Nancy  Brown,  mother  of  John  Brown,  sur- 
named  Poetm,  which  is  by  interpretation,  Pink-Eyed.  We  opine 
that  if  Mrs.  Brown  had  been  in  the  place  of  Mrs.  Mitten,  and  Mas- 
ter John  in  the  place  of  Master  William,  she  would  have  given  him, 
the  said  John,  such  a  '<  cawhalloping,"  that  Dr.  Waddel's  best  "  fif- 
teen" would  have  been  a  Charlotte-russe  to  it.  We  have  no  doubt 
that  John  would  have  given  his  "  cawhalloping"  for  the  "fifteen," 
and  made  one  of  his  best  bows  to  Dr.  Waddel,  to  boot. 

No  alternative  was  now  left  to  Mrs.  Mitten  but  to  procure  a  clerk- 
ship for  William  in  some  store  of  the  village.  Two  of  the  merchants, 
Mr.  Sanders  and  Mr.  Dillon,  had  been  enquiring  for  clerks,  a.  little 
while  before  Mrs.  Mitten  took  the  rounds  in  her  son's  behalf. 

She  went  first  to  Mr.  Sanders. 

"  Mr.  Sanders,"  said  she,  "  don't  you  wish  to  employ  a  clerk  in 
your  store  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam,"  said  'Mr.  Sanders,  "  very  much  indeed." 

"  Well,  I  wouW  be  very  glad  if  jou  would  take  my  son  Wil- 
liam  " 

"Your  son  William,  Mrs.  Mitten  !  why  surely  you  are  not  going 
to  take  such  a  smart  boy  as  that  frouuschool,  to  make  a  clerk  of  him  !" 

•*  He  has  quit  school " 

"Quit  school !     Why,  how  did  that  happen  ?"  *     * 

"  He  got  dis.satisficd,  and  wished  to  get  into  some  employment, 
•And  desires  a  clerkship " 


186  MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN. 

"  Dear,  dear,  dear !  How  thoughtless  boys  are  !  Why,  Mrs.  Mit- 
ten,  you  oughtn't  to  alloW%im  to  quit  school.  That  boy  was  cut  out 
for  a  great  man — yes,  for  a  very  great  man " 

"Well,  Mr.  Sanders,  his  talents  will  not  be  in  the  way  of  your  em- 
ploying him,  I  hope." 

**  Oh,  no,  ma'am,  no !  I  prefer  a  smart  boy  to  a  dull  one,  certainly  j 
but  it  does  look  like  such  a  sacrifice  to  put  such  a  boy  as  that  behind 
the  counter !  If  he's  determined  to  quit  school,  he  ought,  by  all 
means,  to  study  law  or  physic." 

"  He's  too  young  for  that." 

"  Oh — ah,  yes.  He's  too  young  to  go  into  any  sort  of  business. 
A  store,  in  such  a  place  as  this,  is  a  very  dange-rous  place  for  a  youth 
of  William's  age.  I  never  could  forgive  myself  if  I  should  take 
him  into  my  store  at  his  tender  age,  and  he  should  turn  out  badly — " 

"But  he  will  be  constantly  under  your  eye  and  mine,  Mr.  San- 
ders." 

"Ah,  there's  the  difl&culty,  Mrs.  Mitten.  He  will  not  be  constant- 
ly under  my  eye.  I  have  long  trips  to  make  to  the  i>orth  twice  a 
year — repeated  trips  to  Augusta  and  Savannah.  But,  Mrs.  Mitten, 
if  you  are  disposed  to  risk  it,  such  is  my  regard  for  you  and  your 
family — but  he  is  too  young — entirely  too  young  \" 

"Why,  Mr.  Sanders,  he  can't  be  younger  than  young  Dally  was 
when  you  first  took  him ;  and  he  did  well  while  he  was  with  you, 
and  went  out  of  your  store  to  preaching." 

"  Very  true,  very  true,  Mrs.  Mitten.    But  young  Dally  was  the  son 

of  a  widow and — so  is  William;  and  thus  far  the  cases  are  alike. 

But  Mrs.  Dally  was  a  poor  widow,  with  a  number  of  sons,  and  you 
are  a  rich  widow  with  but  one  son.  It  was  a  charity  (somewhat)  to 
take  her  son,  but  it  would  be  no  charity  to  take  yours.  And,  you 
see,  moreover,  besides,  Mrs.  Mitten,  you  would  never  be  satisfied 
with  the  wages  for  William  that  I  gave  young  Dally " 

"  I  don't  care,  Mr.  Sanders,  if  you  give  him  no  wages  at  all ' 

"  Oh,  bless  my  soul,  Mrs.  Mitten,  that  would  never  do  !  I  couldn't 
think  ot  taking  your  boy  for  nothing." 

"  Well  just  give  him  what  you  think  proper.  It  is  not  for  the  pay 
that  I  wish  to  put  him  under  you,  but  simply  to  acquaint  himself 
with  the  mercantile  business.  I  will  board  him  and  clothe  him  my-- 
self,  and  if  you  choose  to  gite  him  anything,  very  well;  it  will  go  to 
him,  and  he  won't  care  whether  it  is  much  or  little." 

"Ah,  there  you  are  mistaken,  Mrs.  Mitten.  William  would  never 
be  satisfied  to  see  other  boys  in  town,  not  half  as  smart  as  he  is,  get- 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  187 

ting  two  or  three  times  aa  much  as  he  gets — and  I  shouldn't  blame 
him  at  :ill.  Besides,  T  can't  think  of  fixing  his  wages  myself.  If  I 
take  him,  it  must  be  under  contract  with  you,  in  which  his  wages 
must  be  settled  to  our  mutual  satisfaction.  William  must  havenotU- 
ir.g  to  do  with  it.  Now  what  would  you  be  willing  to  take  for  his 
services '/" 

"  Why,  bless  my  soul,  Mr.  Sanders,  I  know  nothing  about  such 
matters.     I'm  willing  to  take  anything  you  choose  to  give." 

Mr.  Sanders  looked  down,  scratched  his  head,  and  said  rather  to 
himself,  than  to  Mrs.  Mitten  :  •'  How  shall  we  fix  this  thing.  I  (Jis- 
like  very  much  that  any  obstacle  should  stand  in  the  way  of  my  get- 
ting the  services  of  such  a  brilliant  youth  as  he  is.  But,  stop,  stop, 
stop.  Does  William  understand  Arithmetic  pretty  well  ?  If  he 
doesn't,  you  know  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  employ  him." 

"  I  presume  he  does  ;  he  was  considered  very  smart  at  figures  bj 
his  teachers  here." 

"  Well,  if  that's  the  ca.se,  I  reckon  wo  sliall  be  enabled  to  get  along. 
Send  him  to-morrow  morning,  Mrs.  Mitten,  at  nine  o'clock  precisely, 
and  I  will  tr}^  him  a  little  at  figures,  and  if  he  docs  well,  why  then, 
that  will  take  away  the  only  insuperable  obstacle  to  employing  him." 

Mrs.  Mitten  pnnnised  to  .send  him  over  at  the  appointed  time,  and 
retired. 

The  Mr.  Sanders  of  whom  wo  have  been  speaking,  was  Mr.  D. 
Sanders,  who  was  doing  business  with  his  brother,  Mr.  B.  Sanders, 
under  the  copartnership  name  of  D.  &  B.  Sanders.  The  last,  how- 
ever, was  little  more  than  a  dormant  partner. 

The  conversation  just  detailed  was  hardly  ended  before  it  reached 
Mr.  Dillon 'fe  ears,  who,  at  precisely  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning, 
closed  doors,  and''  ahf^qiuitulatcil,"  as  l^illy  Muniord  would  say,  alias 
*^  vamoo)ie(l ''  alias  was  "taken  with  agrttivg  avai/." 

William  was  ])rompt  to  Mrr  Sanders'  appointed  hour. 

''Well,  William,"  said  Mr.  Sanders,  "your  mother  tolls  me  you 
are  going  to  quit  school,  and  tnko  to  clerking.     Is  it  so  T' 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am  beat  ujwu  that." 

"  Dear  me,  dear  me,  what  a  pity  !  Why,  William,  you  were  cut 
out  for  something  greater  than  a  counter-hoppor.  I  earnestly  advise 
you,  my  son,  to  gp  on  and  fini.'<h  your  education.  Everybody  says 
that  if  you  only  take  the  right  turn,  you  will  be  one  of  the  great- 
est men  that  (leorgia  ever  produced.  Now,  are  J"ou  gtiing  to  dis- 
appoint us  all  ?  I  want  a  clerk  badly,  but  I  had  rather  do  with- 
out a  clerk  a  twelve  month,  than  be  the  means  of  turning  you  aside 


188  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN, 

> 

from  the  glory  which  is  before  you,  if  you  only  iinprove  your  talents 
in  the  right  way.  So  reluctant  am  I  to  offering  you  any  encourage- 
ment to  give  up  your  fine  f  rospects,  that  I  am  really  afraid  your 
mother  took  up  the  idpa  that  I  didn't  wish  to  employ  you.  Now, 
William,  take  an  old  man's  advice;  return  to  school,  complete  your 
education,  study  law,  be  studious,  be  ujoral,  and  by  and  by  you'll 
never  get  done  thanking  me  for  stopping  you  in  the  course  you  are 
now  pursuing." 

"Mr.  Sanders,"   said  William,  "I've  heard  my  talents  spoken  of 
and  praised  ever  since  I  was  a  child,   and'  instead   of  doing  me  any 

good,  they  have  done  mc  nothing  but  harm " 

"  Oh,  my  son,  the  time  hasn't  come  yet  for  ycu  to  reap  the  bene- 
fits of  your  talents.     Look  at  lawyer  M .and  lawyer  C , 

and  lawyer  J' ,  who  had  nothing  to  depend  upon  but  their  tal- 
ents ;  where  are  they  nov,'?  All  on  the  high  road  to  fortune  and  to 
fame  !  Now  I  don't  believe  cither  of  them  had  as  bright  talents  as 
you  have." 

Just  here  Mr.  B.  Sanders,  who  was  i  arel_y  seen  about  the  store,  rede 
up,  dismounted,  and  walked  into  the  counting  room. 

"  My  mind  is  made  up,  Mr.  Sanders,"  said  William,  "and  if  you 
will  not  employ  me,  I  must  seek  a  place  elsewhere." 

"  Well,  if  you  are  determined  to  go  into  a  store — which  store  would 
you  prefer  ?" 

"  I  prefer  yours  greatly  to  any  store  in  town." 
"Well,  however  desirous  I  may  be  to  employ  you,  you  know  your- 
self, my  son,  that  I  can't  do  it  unless  you  understand  figures  pretty 
well." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  William.  % 

"  Well,  here  take  the  slate  and  pencil,  and  let  me  try  you  a  little. 
How  much  will  five  and  a  half  yards  of  cloth  come  to,  at  five  and  a 
half  dollars  a  yard  V  , 

The  question  was  no  sooner  asked,  than  William  answered  it  by 
his  head  without  touching  pencil  to  slqte.  Mr.  Sanders  took  the 
slate,  ciphered  it  up,  found  the  answer  correct,  rubbed  out  his  calcu- 
lation, and  returned  the  slate  to  William,  saying,  "Very  well  done, 
my  son;  but  that's  head-work,  and  it  won't  do  to  keep  merchants' 
accounts  by  the  head;  do  it  on  the  slate." 

William  did  it  on  the  slate  in  less   time  than  Mr.  Sanders  did  it. 
"Very  well.     How  much  will  eighteen  ponnds  and  three  quarters 
'of  sugar  come  to,  at  eighteen  and  three  quarter  cents  a  pound." 

William  gave  the  answer  promptly,  not  by  his  head,  but  according 
to  Pike. 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  189 

"  Very  well,  William  !  Very  promptly  and  quickly  done  !  How 
mucli  -will  five-eighths  of  a  yard  of  cloth  come  to  at  five  eighths  of  a 
dollar  a  yard." 

William  soon  presented  the  answer. 
"  It  isn't  right  my  son,"  said  Mr.  Sanders. 
William  reviewed  it. 

"Yes,  it  is  right,  Mr.  Sunders,"  said  William. 
Sanders  looked  over  it  again  and  acknowledged  his  error. 
"  Well,  William,"  said  Mr.  Sanders,  "  I  will  put  a  few  more  ques- 
tions to  you  and  then  release  you.     How   much   will   seven   and  a 
quarter  yards  of  cloth  come  to  at  one  pound,  seven  shillings  and  six- 
pence ha'penny  sterling  a  yard  ?"' 

William  gave  the  answer  correctly. 

"  AYell,  let  me  try  you  a  little  at  interest."  lie  put  down  upon 
the  slate  "S567i'/  and  handed  it  to  William.  "There,"  said  he, 
"  give  me  the  interest  on  that  sum  for  a  month  and  a  half,  at  eight 
per  cent." 

William  took  the  slate,  placed  a  dot  to  the  right  of  the  first  figure 
and  handed  it  hack,  saying  "  there's  the  answer  sir — six  dollars, 
sixty-seven  and  a  quarter  cents." 

Mr.  Sanders  went  over  the  sum  in  the  common  way,  while  W^il- 
liam  stood  chuckling.  When  he  brought  out  the  result  just  as 
William  had  it,  he  looked  at  him  with  perfect  amazement.  "  Well, 
William,"  said  he,  "  I  believe  you  arc  the  smartest  boy  at  figures 
that  I  ever  saw  in  all  my  life." 

Here  Mr.  B.  Sanders  stepped  in.  "  Why,  brother,"  said  he, 
"  have  you  turned  school  master  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  D.,  "  I  was  trying  William  on  arithmetic,  to  sec 
if  he  would  answer  for  a  clerk  for  us." 

"  Why,  I've  engaged  a  clerk,"  said  Mr.  B.  Sanders. 

"  lou  have  !"  said  Mr.  D.,  "  who  is  it  ?" 

"John  Dally,  brother  of  our  old  clerk." 

"  Why  brother,  there  never  was  a  J)ally  to  compare  with  William 
Mitten  at  figures  !  I  verily  believe  he  is  better  than  both  of  us  put 
tegethcr.  Couldn't  you  get  off  from  your  engagement  with  Mrs. 
Pally,  so  that  we  may  employ  William  ?" 

"  I  suppose  I  could,  if  I  wore  to  ask  her  to  let  me  off,  but  that's 
not  my  way  of  dealing." 

"  Well,  William,"  said  Mr.  P.  Sanders,  "you  see  how  it  is — wc 
shall  have  to  give  you  up.  Tell  your  mother,  that  I  was  not  only 
satisfied  with  your  knowledge  of  arithmetic,  hut  that  I  was  delight- 


190  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

ed  with   it — amazed  at  it;  but  that  my  brother,  knowing  that   we 
wanted  a  clerk,  had  employed  one." 

William  went  home  and  related  all  that  had  passed  between  him 
and  Mr.  D,  Sanders. 

"  Well,  was  there  ever  .such  an  unlucky  mortal  born,  William,  aK 
you  are  !"  said  Mrs.  MitteA.     "  It  seems  almost  supernatural." 

On  Mr.  Dillon's  return  home,  which  was  two  days  and  a  half  after 
his  "  absqvatuJation,"  Mrs.  Mitten  waited  on  him  to  know  if  he 
would  not  employ  her  son.  But  Mr.  Dillon  had  just  engaged  a 
young  man,  who  had  been  highly  recommended  to  him. 

Mrs.  Mitten  now  made  application  to  every  other  merchant  in 
town,  but  they  were  all  supplied  with  clerks ;  they  all  spoke,  how- 
ever, iu  the  highest  terms  of  William's  talents. 

'•  And  what  will  you  do  now,  my  sou,"  said  she,  "  seeing  your 
favorite  plan  is  broken  up  ?" 

"  I  really  don't  know,  mother ;  I  am  at  the  end  of  my  row." 

Mr.  Markham,  healing  of  her  disappointment,  called  upon  Mrs. 
Mitten  and  proposed  to  her  to  let  William  go  on  with  his  cousin 
David,  Greorge  Markham,  and  John  Brown,  and  fit  himself  for  col- 
lege under  Doctor  Finley,  a  celebrated  teacher  at  Basken  Ridge, 
New  Jersey.  "If,"  said  Mr.  Markham,  "William  will  apply  him- 
self closely  to  the  study  of  Greek  and  Mathematics,  (the  only  studies 
in  which  he  is  deficient,)  he  will  be  able  to  enter  the  Freshman 
class  in  six  months  with  ease,  I  am  certain." 

The  proposition  was  readily  embraced  by  both  the  mother  and  the 
son;  and  while  she  commenced  his  outfit  for  the  journey,  he  com- 
menced the  study  of  Greek  assiduously. 


CHAPTER   XXII.  • 

About  iiiuo  days  before  tlictiinc  appointed  for  Masters  Thotupsou, 
Markham,  Brown  and  Mitten  to  leave  for  the  North,  Mr.  Beach,  a 
celebrated  manufacturer  of  vehicles,  in  Newark,  New  Jersey,  came 
to  the  village,  on  a  collecting  tour  through  the  State  of  Georgia.  He 
was  well  known  to  Mr.  B.  vSandcrs,  who  suggested  to  him  that  the 
four  youths  just  mentioned  were  about  leaving  for  his  State,  and  that 
he  would  confer  a  very  great  favor  on  their  parents,  by  taking  charge 
of  them,  at  least  as  far  as  his  residence.  Mr.  Beach  very  cheerful- 
ly and  kindly  offered  to  do  so,  provided  they  could  delay  their  de- 
parture until  the  fifterfhth  of  the  month,  and  meet  him  at  Augusta 
"oh  that  date.  Mr.  Sanders  sent  for  Mr.  Markham,  introduced  him 
to  Mr.  Beach,  and  the  arrangement  was  made  to  suit  the  conveni- 
ence of  the  latter.  On  the  fourteenth,  xMv.  Markham  was  in  An 
gusta  with  the  -four  youtlis,  where  ho  found  Mr.  Beach  ready  to 
take  charge  of  them.  They  were  placed  under  his  care,  and  left 
with  him  for  Jersey,  via  Savannah,  the  next  morning.  On  the 
evening  before  their  departure,  Mr.  Markham  addressed  the  four  as 
follows  : 

"  I  canMOt  part  with  you,  my  young  friends,  perhaps  forever,  with- 
out giving  3'ou  the  benefit  of  my  experience  and  observation  in  the 
way  of  counsel.  Bear  with  me  if  I  occasionally  play  the  woman  in 
delivering  it,  for  I  speak  from  a  heavy  heart.  Was  ever  man  placed 
in  precisely  the  relation  which  I  .sustain  to  you  all  !  I  can  with 
truth  say,  that  1  never  felt  the  delicacy  and  responsibilities  of  it,  in 
all  their  force,  until  this  moment.*^  When  I  left  college,  I  had  no 
higher  ambition  than  to  be  a  good  and  a  useful  man  ;  and  I  saw  no 
better  way  of  attaining  these  ends  than  by  devoting  myself  to  the 
instruction  of  youth.  I  determined  to  engage  in  this  vocation — 
grfeatly  to  the  disappointment  and  mortiBcation  of  my  only  surviving 
parent,  who,  mother  like,  far  over-estimated  my  gifts  and  attain- 
ments, and  regarded  them  as  certain  passports  to  high  political  or 
judicial  distinction,  while  in  consonance  with  a  miserably  perverted 
public  opinion  of  that  day,  Tnot  yet  entirely  reformed,)  she  esteemed 
the  calling  of  the  '  School  Master  '  as  hurdly  respectable.  T  Faw  the 
importance  of  it,  and  the  bitter  fruits  of  this  debasement  of  public 
opinion,  (that  it  was  throwing  the  sacred  business  of  instruction  into 
the  hands  of  the  worst  of  characters)  and  I  determined  that,  to  the 
extent  of  my  ability,   I  would  elevate  the  character  of  the  teacher 


192  MASTER   WILLIAM   IMITTEN. 

and  rectify  the  popular  ei-ror.  I  opened  my  school  at  first  in  this 
place,  and  afterwards  in  the  village  where  I  now  reside.  I  soon  ac- 
quired the  couiidenee  of  the  villagers — at  least  of  all  whose  confi- 
dence was  worth  having.  I  appreciated  il  highly,  and  studied  to 
retain  and  strengthen  it  by  a  faithful  discharge  of  my  duty  as  an  in- 
structor, and  the  performance  of  good  offices  as  a  man.  The  conse- 
quence has  been,  that  trust  after  trust  has  been  devolved  "^ipon  me 
through  a  long  series  of  years.  I  accepted  them  simply  on  the 
score  of  friendship,  benevolence  or  humanity,  thinking  nothing  of 
the  responsibilities  attached  to  them,  until  I  found  myself  occupying 
the  place  of  a  parent  to  four  youths  of  fiiir  promise,  of  different 
means,  tempers  and  dispositions,'  at  the  most  critical  period  of  life, 
bn  the  eve  of  their  departure  from  the  parental  roof,  for  two,  three 
or  more  years.  Verily,  my  position  is  an  unenviable  one ;  but  it 
will  be  a  source  of  future  rejoicing  to  us  all,  if  you  choose  to  make 
it  such.  That  you  may  make  it  such,  Jisten  to  the  last  counsels  that 
I  expect  ever  to  give  you;  remembering  that  there  are  others  much 
more  deeply  interested  in  your  observance  of  them,  (with  but  one 
exception)  than  I  am. 

•'  Hitherto  you  have  had  wiser  heads  to  shape  your  course,  to  correct 
your  errors,  to  check  your  wanderings,  and  to  guard  your  morals, 
than  your  own.  From  to-morrow  you  must  be  thrown  mainly  upon 
your  own  resources,  and  that  too  amidst  scenes  of  novelty,  temptation 
and  trial,  to  which  you  are  entire  strangers.  Fortunately  for  me, 
and  more  fortunately  for  you  if  you  will  be  advised,  I  am  enabled  to 
anticipate  the  more  serious  evils  to  which  you  will  be  exposed  during 
your  sojourn  abroad,  and  to  fortify  you  against  them.  Come  safely 
through  these,  and  your  character  will  survive  all  others,  though  it 
may  be  smartly  chafed  by  them.  To  these,  however,  I  shall  not  con- 
fine my  counsels,  for  my  purpose  is,  not  simply  to  save  ;^ou  from 
ruin,  but  to  exalt  you  to  honorable  distinction. 

'.'I  begin  with  your  duty  to  Mr.  13each,  who  has  laid  us  all  under 
obligations  to  him  which  we  can  never  repay.  He  has  kindly 
promised  to  take  you  to  his  house  upon  reaching  Newark,  to  retain 
you  there  for  two  days,  until  he  can  dispose  of  a  little  pressing  busi- 
ness, then  to  accompany  you  to  New  York,  and  devote  two  more 
days  to  showing  you  the  city  and  as  many  of  its  curiosities  as  can 
be  seen  in  so  short  a  time,  and  then  to  see  you  all  to  your  destina- 
tion. Now,  whether  we  are  indebted  to.  his  native  goodness  of  heart 
for  these  unusual  and  unlooked  for  kindnesses,  or  to  his  friendship 
for  Mr.  Sanders,  they  cercainly  demand  your  profoundest  respect  and 


MASTER  WILLIAJtf   MITTEN,  193 

your  warmest  feelings  of  gratitude.  Let  him  see  that  you  arc  sensi- 
ble of  them.  In  your  intercourse  with  him  be  modest,  but  not  bash- 
ful ;  easy,  but  not  forward ;  familiar,  but  not  pert ;  and  at  all  times 
and  under  all  circumstances,  show  him  the  most  marked  deference 
and  respect.  When  he  speaks,  give  him  your  attention.-  Arrest 
always  your  conversation  with  each  other,  (o  hear  what  he  has  to 
say.  Should  he  use  an  ungrammatieal  expression,  or  betray  ignor- 
ance of  any  of  the  very  few  things nvhich  you  know,  you  are  not  to 
evince  by  word,  smile  or  interchange  of  look,  that  you  notice  or 
know  of  his  defects.  AuticiMte  his  wishes,  and  relieve  him  of  the 
burden  of  you  as  much  as  possible.  Take  care  of  your  own  trunks 
and  of  his,  (if  he  ^Vill  allow  you  to  do  so)  under  his  direction. 
^Yhatever  opinions  he  may  advance,  you  ai-e  not  to  object  to  them  ; 
much  less  are  you  to  debate  them  with  him.  These  rules  should  be 
observed  in  your  intercourse  with  your  elders  generally,  more  es- 
pecially are  they  to  be  observed  in  your  intercourse  with  a  benelac- 
tor. 

''  In  the  course  of  your  travels,  you  will  sooner  or  later  be  thrown 
ip  coi«p;iny  with  every  variety  of  character;  the  grave,  the  scientific, 
the  facetious,  the  ignorant,  the  profane,  the  vile.  Be  not  forward  in 
obtruding  j'oursolvcs  upon  the  notice  of  either  class.  A  modest  and 
diffident  approach  to  men  of  rank  and  le.irning,  you  may  make,  with 
propriety  and  improvement;  but  take  care  to  let  them  ahtays  lead  in 
the  conversation  ;  and  as  soon  as  they  turn  their  attention  from  you 
to  another,  cease  to  be  talkers,  and  become  listeners.  Let  others 
entertain  the  wit,  not  you.  To  the  ignorant  bo  charitable,  not  rude. 
Ignorance  is  no  crime.  Show  no  countenance  to  the  vulgar  and  the 
profane.  I  do  not  say  that  it  is  your  province  to  rebuke  them  ;  but 
it  is  your  duty  to  yourselves  to  exhibit  no  signs  of  approbation  to 
anything  that  falls  from  the  lips  of  such  characters.  And  do  not 
suppose  that  you  will  gain  credit  for  purity  of  heart,  by  simply  ab- 
staining from  vulgarity  of  lip  yourselves.  Let  me  sec  how  you  re- 
ceive it  from  the  lijis  of  others,  and  I  will  tell  you  exactly  ho'v'^5 
you  differ  from  them  in  moral  character.  Does  it  absorb  your  atten- 
tion ?  Does  it  excite  a  smile  ?  Does  it  raise  nb  blush  upon  your 
check  '{  Does  it  receive  from  you  an  impulsive  hint '(  You  arc  no 
better  at  heart  than  the  retailer  of  it.  The  only  difference  between 
you  is,  that  you  are  a  little  more  prudent  than  he  is,  in  your  choice 
of  times  and  places  of  relieving  your  hearts  from  thi."!  moral  fecu- 
lence. 

''  Do  not  allow  yourselves  to  contraot  the  habit  of  profane  swearing. 


194  .     MASTER   WJLLIAM   MIITEN. 

Aside  from  its  sinfulness,  it  should  be  eschewed  by  every  man  who 
desires  to  become  fascinating  in  conversation,  or  renowned  in  elocu- 
tion. I  never  saw  the  veri/  profane  swearer,  who  was  a  very  eloquent 
extemporaneous  speaker.  The  reason  is  plain  :  such  an  one,  always 
accustomed  to  filling  up  his  sentences  with  oaths,  cannot  command 
the  appropriate  terms  to  supply  their  places  when  they  are  rejected. 
"When  you  enter  college,  you  will  be  presented  with  a  copy  of  its 
laws  :  read  them  attentively,  and  resolve  to  obey  them.  Indeed, 
you  will  be  required  to  si^n  a  written  pledge  to  do  so.  A  word  upon 
this  pledge.  It  is  called  the  matriculation  pledge,  and  imports  the 
formal  admission  of  the  student  into  the  Institution.  How  it  comes 
to  pass  I  know  not,  but  so  it  is,  that  not  one  in  twenty  students 
regard  this  solemnly  recorded  vow  as  of  any  force  whatever.  A 
large  majority  do  not  violate  it — at  least  in  any  important  particu- 
lars— but  whether  their  conformity  to  it  is  from  respect  to  it,,  or  a 
proper  sense  of  its  obligations,  is  very  questionable.  It  is  certain, 
that  in  the  four  years  in  which  I  was  in  college,  I  never  heard  it  ad- 
verted to  as  a  ground  of  obedience  to  the  rules  of  the  Institution. 
One  day,  a  very  grave,  pious  student  said  to  a  rather  wild  one,  iij 
my  presence,  '  How  does  it  happen  that  so  many  students  treat  the 
matriculation  pledge  as  a  nullity  r  'Oh,'  said  the  other,  'when  I 
took  the  pledge,  I  understood  it  to  mean  that  I  would  keep  the  law, 
or  endure  the  penalty'  (!)  I  see  you  all  smile  at  this  stupendous 
discovery  in  moral  philosophy,  and  well  you  may.  If  every  official 
oatb,  and  every  private  promise  were  to  be  interpreted  in  this  way, 
no  government  could  last  a  year,  and  every  ligament  that  binds  man 
to  man  would  be  severed  in  less  time.  Officers  might  do  as  they 
please,  and  '  endure  the  penalty  !'  Husbands  might  forsake  their 
wives,  and  wives  their  husbands,  and  '  endure  the  penalty  !'  I 
might  desert  you  here,  and  take  your  funds  to  myself  and  *  endure 
the  penalty  !'  Mr.  Beach  may  desert  you  in  Savannah  or  New  York 
and  '  endure  the  penalty  !'  But  I  forget  myself — you  see  the  ab- 
sr^/lity  of  this  doctrine  as  plainly  as  I  do.  If  you  mean  to  disre- 
gard your  matriculation  pledge,  tell  me  so  now,  that  I  may  save  you 
from  the  sin  of  taking  it.  If  you  mean  to  keep  it,  all  further  coun- 
sels from  me  would  seem  unnecessary.  Not,  so,  however:  nine- 
tenths  of  those  who  take  it,  mean  at  the  time  to  keep  it ;  but  from 
temptation,  want  of  caution,  or  some  other  cause,  they  violate  it; 
and  then  they  think  one  violation  as  bad  as  a  thousand,  and  become 
desperate,  or  quiet  their  consciences  with  some  such  miserable  ap- 
pliance as  that  to  which  we  have  just  .adverted.     Now,  this  is  all 


MASTER  WILLIAM    MITTEN.  195 

wrong.  One  breach  of  duty  can  never  justify  another ;  and  there 
is  almost  as  wide  a  diifercnce  betwcou  a  deliberate  fault,  undone 
committed  under  severe  temptation,  its  there  is  between  innocence 
and  guilt.  If,  therefore,  you  should  be  betrayed  into  a  breach  of 
your  pledge,  do  not  consider  yourselves  as  released  from  it,  but  as 
instructively  admonished  to  guard  with  quickened  vigilance  against 
the  associations  or  train  of  events  that  led  you  into  it. 

"  But,  my  young  friends,  there  is  a  condition  attached  to  that 
pledge — an  implied  one,  to  be  sure,  but  none  the  less  obligatory  on 
that  account — which  Professors  arc  apt  to  forget ;  but  students, 
never  :  It  is,  that  the  members  of  the  Faculty  discharge  their  duties 
faithfully  to  the  students.  And  here  is  the  prolific  source  of  many 
difficulties  in  Colleges.  One  duty  of  the  Faculty  students  always 
see  very  clearly ;  and  that  is,  that  every  member  of  the  Faculty  is 
bound  to  treat  them  with  tenderness,  courtesy  and  respect,  and  this 
duty  they  not  only  exact  with  unreasonable  rigor,  but  treat  a  breach 
of  it  in  the  most  unreasonable  manner  that  human  ingenuity  could 
devise.  They  hold  the  Professor  bound  to  this  duty,  no  matter 
how  they  may  treat  him.  This  is  bad  enough,  but  their  mode  of 
dealing  with  the  -offending  Professor  is  ten  thousand  times  worse. 
The  injured  party,  instead  of  mildly  and  calmlj'  laying  his  grievances 
before  the  Professor,  and  asking  an  explanation  of  him,  which  in 
ninety-nine  cases  out  o<f  a  hundred  would  produce  a  reconciliation, 
spreads  his  grievances  through  the  College.  His  class  (perhaps  two 
or  three  classes,)  espouse  his  cause,  visit  the  Professor  witR  every 
species  of  insult  and  indignity,  set  all  the  laws  of  the  Institution  at 
defiance,  rage  like  the  Bacchantes  of  old,  get  themselves  expelled  by 
the  dozen  and  suspended  by  the  scorn,  and  then  come  to  order. 

"  There  was  but  on.3  row  of  this  kind  while  I  was  in  College ;  and 
though  I  really  sympathised  with  the  student  whose  wrongs  pro- 
duced it,  I  took  no  part  in  it,  because  I  could  not  see  what  good  end 
wa.<j  to  be  accomplished  by  it.  And  had  I  not  seen  such  things  with 
my  own  eyes,  I  could  not  have  believed  it  jtossible  that  any  iiuman 
being  out  of  Bedlam  could  act  in  this  Avay.  I  was  blamed  fur  my 
neutrality  while  the  uproar  was  in  progress,  but  never  afterwards. 
Now,  should  either  of  3-ou  feel  yourselves  aggrieved  by  anything  said  or 
done  by  any  member  of  the  Faculty,  after  allowing  cooling  time  for 
yourself  and  him,  go  to  him  and  lay  the  grounds  of  your  complaint 
before  him  privately  and  temperately.  If  he  does  not  give  you  satis- 
faction, appeal  in  lik(j^manner  to  the  Faculty.  If  they  give  you  no 
redress,  appeal  to  the  Trustees;  and   if  they  give  you  no  redress 


196  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

appeal  to  me,  and,  if  your  cause  be  juat,  I  will  procure  for  you  an 
honorable  dismission,  and  rcij^ove  you  from  the  College.  This  course 
will  be  mucli  more  creditable  and  profitable  to  you,  than  to  tax  the 
friendship  of  your  fellow-students  with  your  vindication,  when  it  is 
impossible  that  they  can  ga'n  anything  by  it,  and  certain  that  they 
will  lose  incalculably.  All  this  upon  the  supposition  that  you  are 
actually  niultreated  by  a  Professor  without  any  fault  on  your  part — a 
case  which  hardly  ever  occurs.  Take  care  that  you  do  not  construe 
the  duf(/  of  a  Professor  into  a  fault.  The  laws  will  show  you  what 
he  is  bound,  to  do ;  and  all  that  he  does  in  obedience  to  the  laws,  do 
fbu  submit  to  without  murmurs  or  complaint.  It  is  no  ground  of 
objection  to  him  that  Qther  Professors  are  more  remibS  in  the  dis- 
charge of  their  duties  than  he  is.  The  comparison  between  him  and 
them  will  be  altogether  in  their  favor  while  you  are  in  College,  but 
altogether  in  his  when  you  come  out  of  it,  especially  if  you  ever 
(     become  the  Trustee  of  a  College. 

"  The  greatest  danger  to  which  you  will  be  exposed,  is  from  the 
shocking  system  of  ethics  which  prevails  in  Colleges.  It  is  admitted 
on  all  hands,  that  a  student  should  not  become  a  voluntary  informer 
against  his  fellow-students.  But  even  to  this  rule  there  ought  to  be 
some  exceptions ;  and  the  exceptions  should  cover  all  cases  where 
the  information  is  given  from  a  principle  of  benevolence  to  the 
students  themselvo?.  and  there"  is  no  other  means  of  securing  the 
end  in  view  but  by  information  lodged  with  authorities  of  the  Col- 
lege, or  of  the  State.  A  student,  for  instance,  knows  of  a. contem- 
plated duel  between  two  of  his  fellow-students;  he  uses  his  best 
exertions  to  stop  it,  but  fails;  is  he  to  be  branded  with  the  infamy 
of  a  common  informer,  because  he  puts  the  Faculty  in  possession  of 
the  faoi  ?  Surely  not.  A  fortiori,  where  the  intended  crime  would 
produce  irreparable  injury  to  a  person,  and  subject  the  student  him- 
self to  the  pain  of  death,  as  murder,  •  arson,  treason,  and  thj  like. 
True,  none  of  these  crimes  but  the  first  mentioned  (the  duel,)  are 
likely  to  ever  occur  in  a  College;  but  should  they  occur,  it  is  very 
doubtful  whether  the  informer  vi^ould  find  any  quarter  among  his 
c allege  companions. 

"But  let  us  come  to  a  case  very  likely  to  occur.  It  is  a  rule  in 
some  Colleges,  (in  most  of  them,  I  believe,)  that  if  a  student  is 
char-^ed  with  an  offence,  and  another  is  called  on  to  testify  in  his 
case,  and  refuse,  he  shall  be  dismissed.  Every  student  who  enters 
the  College  pledges  himself  to  keep  this  law;  and  yet,  in  the  judg- 
ment of  seven-tenths  of  the  students,  it  is  considered  basely  dis- 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  197 

honorable  to  testify,  if  his  testimony  would  prove  the  guilt  of  the 
accused  !  The  culprit  himself  has  not  the  magnanimity  tt)  confess 
his  guilt,  and  save  his  ionocent  friends  from  punishment,  but, 
shielded  by  this  miscniblo  abortion  of  College  coinitjy,  ho  avoids.de- 
tcction,  sees  them  disgraced,  driven  oQ'  and  robbed  of  man's  richest 
boon,  (a  liberal  education,)  while  he  quietly  retains  his  place,  and 
ultimately  pockets  his  Parchment !  And  yet,  black,  rotten  and 
foetid  as  he  is,  some  of  the  unimplicated  congratulate  him  on  his 
escape,  and  many  of  them  hold  fellowship  with  "him,  not  only  with- 
out nausea,  "but  with  an  agreeable  relish  !  !  The  dirty  lump  of  hu- 
manity should  be  turned  over  to  the  scavenger,  by  the  unanimous 
verdict  of  the  College,  and  pitched  into  the  remotest  sewer  from  it. 
Now  this  case  has  actually  happened,  and  it  may  happen  again  while 
you  are  in  College.  If  so,  and  you  are  cognizant  of  the  oft'ence, 
(no<  a  jMirticipant  in  if,)  and  sunjnioifed  as  a  witness  against  an  of- 
fender, go  to  him  and  tell  him  to  confess  his  fault,  or  you  will  he,- 
come  a  witness  against  him.  If  thus  forewarned,  he  refuses  to  con- 
fess, testify  against  him.  His  friendship  is  not  worth  having,  nor 
is  the  friendship  of  a  legion  of  students,  who  would  cut  your  ac- 
quaintance for  so  doing.  I  know  it  is  hard  to  bear  the  derision  and 
contempt  of  your  College  companions;  but  bear  that,  or  even  n)ar- 
tyrdoni,  rather  than  forfeit  your  word,  incur  di.sgrace,  be  driven  from 
the  walks  of  science,  and  have  your  fairest"  prospects  blighted,  to 
favor  a  villain. 

"  That  students  should  suffer  themselves  to  be  punished,  in  ofder 
to  conceal  the  guilt  of  an  oil'ender  too  vile  to  own  his  guilt — that  a 
rule  should  obtain  among  (hem,  which  makes  it  better  to  be  a  culprit 
\han  a  witness,  safer  to  sin  than  to  see  it,  more  honorable  to  profit 
by  magnanimity  than  td  practice  it,  and  more  graceful  in  the  male- 
factor to  divide  his  responsibilities  among  his  friends  than  to  boar 
them  himself — is  marvelous  indeed.  Vnit  the  wonders  of  College 
ethics  do  not  stop  here.  Another  principle  of  the  school  is,  that  no 
member  of  the  Iraternity  is  to  exculpate  hiinxr.lf  from  a  crime  com- 
mitted by  one  of  his  fellowy  ;  because,  foisnoth.  if  all  who  are  inno-" 
coHt,  avow  their  innocence,  the  guilty  one  must  be  discovered  if  he 
be  a  man  of  truth  !  ]>y  the  law' of  all  Colleges,  I  bnlievo,  if  a 
student  stands  mute  when  questioned  as  to  his  participation  in  an 
oflence,  he  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  perpetrator  of  it,  and  to  be  visited 
accordingly.  Students,  innocent  studcnte,  stand luute  and  endure  the 
penalty  I  They  virtually  acknowledge  fl  fault,  of  which  they  are  not 
guilty.     Who  is  to  be   benefiioil    i'^-   thoir   self-sacrifice,  they  know 


198  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

not — or  may  not  know  !     Whether  any  crime  at  all  has  been  com- 
mitted by  a  fellow-student  they  do  not  know,   and  do  not  enquire ! 

Whether  the  consequences  which   they   apprehend,   will  follow  from 
their  exonerating  themselves,  they  cannot  know  !     Their  course  of 
couduct  will  save   the   offender,   or  it  wi]l  not.     If  it  save  him,  he 
escapes  and  they  are  punished;  if  it  do  not  save  him,  they  share  his 
fate    witliout    doing   him    any    service  !     Why  this    is    monstrous  ! 
Young  men,  you  are  not  to  forfeit  the  inestimable  blessings  of  a  lib- 
eral education,  for  any  such  refinements  as  these.     You  are  not  to 
encourage  the  idea  that  you  arc  evil-doers,  when  you  are  not  !     You 
are   not   to   lacerate   your  parents'   feelings,    to   conciliate  the  blind 
votaries  of  a  preposterous  dogma  !     I   know   that  you  must  have  a 
will  of  iron  and  nerves  of  steel,   to  withstand  the   sneers,  the  jibes, 
the  taunts,  the   scorn  of  your   college   compeers.     You  can  have  no  ■ 
idea  of  their  potency  until  they  begin  to  threaten  you.     Why  are 
such  conservative  agencies  abused  to  the  encouragement  of  vice  and 
the  terror  of  virtue  !     How  h'as  it  come  to  pass,  that  wrong  receives 
more  favor  in  schools  and  colleges  than  anywhere  else  ?     How  hap- 
pens it,  that  every  code  of  morals,  human  and  divine,  is  reversed  in 
these  Institutions  ?     It  is  umazing,  it  is  unaccountable  !     But,  my 
young  friends,  there  is  n^ajesty  and  power  in  virtue,  if  she  will  as- 
sume her  prerogatives,   which  will  command   respect  and  awe  down 
opposition,'  even  in  colleges.     Put  yourselves  under  her  guardian- 
ship, and  with  head  erect  and  heart  unawed,  boldly  meet  the  cham- 
pions of  vice,  and  you  are  certain  of  victory,  alid  of  victory's  richest 
spoils  :  a  quiet   conscience,  approving   teachers,   rejoicing   parents, 
mental  culture,  public  favor,   and  lasting  honor.     Stand  together  as 
one  man  in  the  maintenance   of  right,   be   led  by  neither  to  espouse^ 
the  wrong.     Cultivate  the  friendship  of  the   orderly,  the  pious,  the 
'studious,  the  intellectual.     Have   no   fellowship   with  the   idle,  tho 
dissipated,  the  boisterous,   the   prodigal.     Treat   them  politely,  but 
distantly.     These  are  tin?  characters  who  breed  all  the  mischiefs  in 
Colle"'e.     From   such  as   these   must   have   sprung   up  those  moral 
monstrosities  of  which   I  have  been  speaking.     The  best  code  of 
morals  for  them  is,   of  course,   that  which  indulges  vice  and  repu- 
diates virtue.     Take  care  of  them ;  the  Faculty  will  judge  you  by 
the  company  you  keep  ;  and  if  you  would  avoid  the  trying  dilemmas 
of  which  I  have  spoken,  keep  away  from  the  vicious  and  the  lawless. 
These  are  the  ones  who  are  arraigned  for  outbreaks,  and  their  com- 
panions are  the  witnesses,  if  not  the  accomplices.     Let  cards  alone  j 
let  intoxicating  liquors  alone  !     If  you  disregard  everything  else 


MASTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN.  199 

that  I  liiive  told  you,  burn  these  seven  words  into  your  memory  : 
'  let  cards  (tlo7ie ;  let  into.ricathifj  Ii'qttors  alone!'  Let  your  T9cre- 
atlon  hours,  and  ojili/ 1/ouT  recreation  Jwurs,  be  spent  mainly  in  fe- 
male society;  preferring  the  pious  and  intellectual,  to  the  light  and 
A^olatile.  Write  home  often,  and  when  temptations  assail  you,  think 
of  home.  Do  not  get  in  the  way  of  neglecting  your  College  duties; 
remissness  is  the  first  step  to  degradation.  You  all  have  yeur  Bibles  : 
read  them  often — if  not  from  a  better  motive,  read  them  for  your 
mothers'  sakes.  And  now,  bow  with  me  in  prayer  to  God,  that  He 
incline  your  hearts  to  keep  these  precepts,  and  His  own,  which  are 
far  better,  conduct  you  safely  to  your  destination,  preserve  you,  and 
bless  you,  during  your  sojourn  at  the  seat  of  Science,  and  return 
you  to  us,  endowed  with  its  richest  treasures  !" 

The  prayer  Avas  offered  up,  and  the  following  morning  ]\Ir.  3Iark- 
ham  bade  his  young  friends  a  tearful  farewell,  saw  them  on  their 
■w\iy  to  Savannah,  and  then  turned  his  steps  homeward. 

CHAPTER  XXIIl. 

Three  days'  staging  placed  Mr.  Beach  with  his  charge  in  Savan- 
nah, and  an  eight  days'  voyage  landed  him  in  New  York.  He  pro- 
ceeded immediately  to  Newark,  whence  he  wrote  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Sanders,  concluding  as  follows  :  "Keport  our  safe  arrival  all  in  good 
health,  to  Mr.  Markham.  He  told  me  that  the  boys, were  raw,  un- 
travclcd  youths,  whom  he  feared  would  give  me  much  trouble  ;  but 
I  assure  hifti  that  they  gave  me  no  trouble  at  all.  So  far  from  it 
they  sought  every  opportunity  to  relieve  me  from  trouble.  They 
seemed  to  contend  for  the  pleasure  of  serving  me.  They  are  four  of 
the  most  genteel,  well-behaved,  clever  boys  I  ever  saw.  Instead  of 
giving  me  trouble,  they  were  a  pleasure  and  delight  to  me  all  the 
way.  As  they  were  from  the  Sou-th,  used  to  be  waited  on,  and  not 
used  to  work,  (as  I  supposed,)  I  did  expect  to  find  them  all  a  little 
lazy  ;  but  they  were  ready  to  turn  their  hands  to  anything.  On  board 
ship  they  were  all  very  sick,  and  as  they  had  all  been  so  kind  to  me, 
I  took  great  pleasure  in  waiting  on  them.  In  two  or  three  days 
they  were  all  well,  and  ever  since  have  been  as  hearty  a.s  bucks. 
They  arc  now  at  my  house,  quite  the  delight  of  my  family.  To- 
morrow and  next  day  I  shall  take  them  over  to  see  New  York  ac- 
cording to  promise,  and  the  day  after  go  with  them  to  Basken  Ilidf'c 
and  Princeton." 

This  letter  of  course  went  the  rounds  of  the  families  most  inter- 


200  MASTER   WILLIAM  MITTEK.  ^ 

ested  in  it,  and  gave  unspeakable  satisfactioa  whithersoever  it  went. 
Mr.  Beach  fulfilled  his  promise.  Markham,  Thompson  and  Brown 
entered  the  Sophomore  class  without  difficulty.  It  was  exceedingly 
mortifying  to  William  to  find  himself  under  the  necessity  of  going 
through  a  preparatory  course  in  order  to  enter  the  Freshman  class, 
when  his  old  schoolmates  were  all  honorably  admitted  into  the  next 
higher  class ;  and  he  determined  to  make  amends  i'ov  lost  time  by 
assiduity  in  study.  The  weather  and  the  place  favored  his  resolu- 
tion, at  least  for  several  months,  for  he  was  kept  in-doors  from  the 
cold,  and  there  were  few,  if  any,  dissolute  youths  at  Basken  Bidge 
to  tempt  him  to  vice.  His  ffrst  letter  to  his  mother  spoke  iu  highest 
terms  of  Mr.  Finley  and  his  "  charming  family ;"  and  the  first  letter 
of  Mr.  Finley  to  Mrs.  Mitten  was  not  less  complimentary  to  William. 
At  the  end  of  five  months,  his  teacher  pronounced  him  fully  pre- 
pared for  the  Freshman  class,  put  in  his  hand  a  very  flattering  cer- 
tificate, and  dispatched  him  to  College.  Instead  of  presenting  his 
certificate  to  the  President,  and  making  application  for  admission 
into  the  Freshman  class,  he  excogitated  a  brilliant  scheme,  not  al- 
together original,  to  be  sure,  but  highly  creditable  to  his  ingenuity, 
whereby  he  was  to  get  into  the  Sophomore  class  without  the  needful 
preparation  for  it.  Thus  thought  our  hero  :  '•'  If  I  apply  for  the 
Junior  class,  they  will  have  too  much  respect  for  my  feelings  to  put 
me  away  down  in  the  Freshman  class,  if  they  can  possibly  avoid  it. 
Even  for  the  Junior  class,  they  will,  in  all  probability,  examine  me 
upon  those  studies  which  I  have  been  over,  and  here  I  shall  acquit 
myself  so  handsomely,  that  they  will  readily  compromise  matters, 
and  let  me  ijito  the  Sophomore  class."  Accordingly  he  reported 
himself  to  the  President  with  an  air  of  gr'eat  self-possession,  as  a 
candidate  for  the  Junior  class.  The  President,  after  gravely  taking 
his  dimensions  with  the  eye,  to  the  manifest  terror  of  Master  Mitten, 
said :  "  The  Junior  Class,  now  more  than  half  advanced  !  How  far 
have  you  advanced  in  Latin  and  Greek  ?"  William  answered.  "  In 
mathematics!"'  He  answered  again.  "  Have  you  studied  Chemis- 
try, Astronomy,  Natural  and  Moral  Philosophy  and  Logic?"  "  No, 
sir  !"  "Under  whom. did  you  prepare  for  College  ?"  "  Mr.  Waddel 
and  Mr.  Finley."  "  Mr.  Waddel  of  South  Carolina  and  Mr.  Finley 
of  Basken  Ridge  ?"  "  Yes,  sir."  "  We  have  four  students  now  ia 
College,  from  Mr.  Waddel's  school,  and  ten  from  Mr.  Finley's,  all 
of  whom  entered  without  difficulty.  Did  either  of  your  preceptors 
advise  you  to  apply  for  the  Junior  class  ?"  ''  No,  sir,  but,  I  thought 
may  be  I  eould  enter  that  class."     "  Well,  Master  Mitten,  /think, 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN:  201 

'  may  be  '  you  can  enter  no  class  in  College.  I  will  give  you  a  trial, 
however,  for  the  Freshman  class,  if  you  can  bring  down  your  aspi- 
rations that  low."  "Well,  sir,"  said  William,  with  a  spirit  of  ac- 
commodation truly  commendable,  "I'll  try  for  that  class."  Here 
William's  usual  bad  luck  attended  him,  for  his  ingenuity  had  ex- 
posed him  to  agonizing  mortification,  betrayed  him  into  a  falsehood, 
and,  as  he  well  knew,  made  the  President's  first  imprcsBions  of  him 
very  unfavorable. 

He  was   examined,   and  admitted  without   difficulty.     The  Presi-, 
dent  was  curious  to  learn  what  sort  of  an  examination  he  stood,  and  , 
enquired  of  the  examining    Professors.     "Admirable!"   said  they, 
una  voce.     The  President  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 

William  fallowed  Mr.  Markham's  advice  strictly  through  the 
Freshman  year,  and  for  four  months  of  the  i:?ophomore  year,  and  the 
eonseqnence  was  as  usual ;  he  stood  at  the  head  of  the  class.  His 
letters  to  his  mother  were  in  the  highest  degree  gratifying.  He 
spoke  gratefully  of  Mr.  Markham's  last  counsels  to  him,  and  prom- 
ised to  obey  them  to  the  letter ;  he  expressed  his  admiration  of  th'C 
Faculty,  particularly  of  those  members  of  it  who  had  charge  of  hia 
class,  in  terms  bordering  upon  the  extravagance  of  praise — rejoiced 
that  he  had  been  defeated  in  his  jtttempt  to  procure  a  clerkship  ;  and 
rejoiced  still  more  that  ho  now  saw  the  error  of  his  ways,  and  had 
radically  reformed.  One  of  his  epistles  he  concluded  in  this  lan- 
guage :  "  When  I  think,  my  dearest  mother,  of  the  trouble  I  have 
given  you — how  I  abused  your  goodness,  and  disappointed  your 
reasonable  expectations,  my  conscience  .smites  mo,  and  my  cheeks 
burn  with  blu:-hes.  How  could  I  have  been  such  an  ingrate  I  How 
could  I  have  sent  a  pang  to  the  bosom  of  the  sweetest,  the  kii^dest, 
the  tenderest,  the  holiest,  the  best  of  mothers  !  Well,  the  past  is 
gone,  and  with  it  my  childish,  boyish  follies:  they  have  all  been  for- 
given long  ago,  and  no  more  are  to  be  forgiven  in  future.  That  I 
am  to  get  the  first  honor  in  my  class  i.s  conceded  by  all  the  class 
except  four.  These  four  were  considered  equal  competfitors  for  it 
until  I  entered  the  cla.«(s,  and  they  do  not  despair  yet ;  but  they  bad 
as  well,  for  they  equal  me  in  nothing  but  Mathematics,  and  do  not 
excel  me  in  that.  The  funds  that  you  allow  me  ($500  per  annum) 
are  more  than  sufficient  to  meet  all  my  college  expenses,  and  allow 
me  occasional  pleasure  rambles  during  the  vacation.  What  I  have 
written  about  my  stand  in  College,  you  will  of  course  understand  as 
intended  only  for  a  mother's  eye. 

"  Your  truly  affectionate  and  grateful  son, 

Wm.  Mitten.'* 


202  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

William's  report  of  himself  was  fully  confirmed  by  his  fellow- 
students  of  the  village.  He  wrote  also  an  affectionate  letter  to 
Doctor  Waddel,  thanking  him  for  his  many  kindnesses,  approving  of 
all  his  dealings  with  him,  and  censuring  himself  for  his  rejection  of 
his  counsels,  and  disobedience  to  his  rules.  Before  this  letter 
reached  his  old  Preceptor,  "William's  fame  and  prospects  in  College 
hid  reached  the  school,  where  all  considered  themselves  interested 
in  his  reputation,  and  all  rejoiced.  At  bis  home  the  rejoicing  was 
more  intense,  and  all  the  merchants  of  the  place,  and  Mr.  Sanders 
in  particular,  congratulated  themselves  that  they  had  olFered  him 
no  encouragement  to  become  a  merchant.  There  was  one  exception, 
to  be  sure,  to  the  general  rejoicing,  in  the  person  of  old  Stewey 
Anderson  ;  and  he  only  suspended  his  joy;  for  he  offeredv  "  to  give 
his  promissory  note,  payable  twelve  months  aftex  date,  for  double 
joy,  if  Bill  Mittten  held  on  that  long." 

"Billy,"  said  Stewey,  "is  a  Belair  colt;  he  beats  everything  for 
a  quarter,  but  he  can't  stand  a  long  run,  I'm  afraid';  he's  entered 
now  for  the  four  mile  heats,  and  I  think  he'll  break  down  about  the 
second  or  third  mile,  sure."  There  was  something,  too,  that  chilled 
the  ardor  of  Dr.  Hull's  delight,  though  no  one  knew  what  it  was. 
But  that  he  partook  of  the  general  feeling  to  some  extent,  M^as 
manifest ;  for  he  never  took  a  chew  of  tobacco  and  grunted  wheu 
William  was  praised. 

Up  to  the  close  of  the  fourth  month  of  Master  Mitten's  Sopho- 
more year,  he  had  almost  entirely  neglected  'Mr.  Markham'"s  advice 
touching  his  recreation  hours  ;  indeed,  he  hardly  allowed  himself 
any  recreation  hours  :  but  occasional  visits  to  a  beautiful  little 
Princeton  lassie,  by  the  name  of  Amanda  Ward,  reminded  him 
forcibly  of  his  remissness  in  this  particular,  and  he'resolved  forth- 
with to  amend  his  ways.  Miss  Amanda  was  not  pious,  but  she  was 
sprightly,  witty  and  graceful;  and  for  her  age  (for  she  had  hardly 
"  entered  her  teens,")  she  was  not  wanting  in  intellectual  culture. 
William's  interest  in  her  increasetl  with  every  visit  to  her,'  and  his 
"  recreation  hours"  began  to  increase  with  his  interest.  The  neces- 
sary consequenee  was,  that  his  i^ludi/  hours  became  more  arduous. 
Still  he  maintained  his  reputation  and  his  place  in  his  class,  with 
only  a  hardly  perceptible  change,  in  the  promptness  and  fluency 
with  whicbhe  disposed  of  his  recitations.  Soon  -after  his  first  visit 
to  Miss  Amanda,  AVilliam's  talents  were  made  kuown  to  her,  as  well 
as  his  fortune,  which  was  represented  to  be  something  under  the 
square  of  what  it  really  was.     She   was   quite  too  young  and  too  ro- 


MASTER   WILIJAM    :\[ITTEN.  203 

mantic  to  have  anything  venal  in  her  composition,  and,  as  his  hand- 
some person,  brilliant  talents  and  interesting  conversation  began  to 
win  wpon  her  afiectious,  she  became  touchingly  pensive.  By  as 
much  as  she  lost  her  vivacity,  by  so  much  did  William's  interest  in 
her  increase.  He  loved  her  before,  and  now  he  sympathized  witli 
her  deeply  and  tenderly.  It  was  a  floating  sympathy,  to  be  sure, 
seeking,  like  Noah's  dove,  a  resting  place  and  finding  none;  bufit 
was  none  the  less  sincere  on  that  account,  and  none  the  less  appre- 
ciated by  the  lovely  object  over  which  it  hovered,  and  diffused  its 
grateful  incense.  Often  from  the  gloom  which  overshadowed  the 
dear  Amanda,  would  she  scud  forth  _^mcllow  twinklings,  like  those 
which  sport  upon  the  bosom  of  an  evening  cloud,  and  which  would 
irradiate  the  countenance  of  her  anxious  friend  for  a  nioment;  but 
he  could  not  persuade  her  to  reveal  the  cause  of  her  depression. 

Under  the  combined  force  of  love,  syinpath}-,  anxiety  and  sus- 
pense, William's  spirits  I'or.-ook  hiui,  he  became  sad  and  gloomy,  and 
study  became  irksome  to  him.  l.atc  sittings  Avith  Miss  Amanda, 
and  then  much  later  sittings  to  malce  up  the  lost  time,  began  to 
make  inroads  upon  William's  health,  and  all  h'w  fair  prospects  would 
probably  have  Ix'cn  bliglited  before  the  close  of  the  term,  had  he 
not  determined  to  act  upon  conjecture  as  to  Miss  Ward's  anguish  of 
mind.  He  judged,  not  without  good  reason,  that  it  proceeded  from 
love  to  him,  and  that  she  was  wasting  away  under  the  consuming 
passion,  because  pho  supposed  that  it  was  not  reciprocated.  He  re- 
solved, therefore,  with  becoming  frankness  to  unbosom  himself  to 
her  and  offer  her  his  hand.  According)}',  at  their  next  interview, 
he  thus  addressed  her  : 

''Miss  Ward,  you  know  that  I  am  not  blind  to  your  despondency, 
and,  by  a  thousand  proofs,  you  know  that  I  am  not  indifferent  to  it. 
Believe  me,  that  my  oft  repeated  enquiries  into  the  cause  of  it  were 
prompted  by  a  purer  and  holier  motive  than  mere  idle  curiosity.  No, 
Miss  Ward,  that  heart  which  is  not  touched  with  the  grier>'.  of  the 
gentler  sex,  must  be  insousible  indeed  ;  such  an  one,  I  am  sure.was 
never  reared  in  the  genial  clinic  of  the  sunny  South.  He  who  could 
obtrude  a  selfish  curiosity  into  the  liallowed  sanctuary  of  woman's 
sorrows,  never  breathed  the  bahny  zephyrs  which  waft  the  cdors  of 
the  magnolia  and  the  oratigc.  'Twos  sympathy,  Miss  AVard,  which 
prompted  my  questions — an  honest  desire  to  share  your  griefs,  if  I 
could  not  relieve  them.  Your  geneioua  nature  will  appreciate  my 
motives,  and  pardon  one  more  question — the  last,  if  an'^werod  nega- 
tively :  Am  1  in  any  way,  directly  or  indirectly,  connected  with  your 
mental  perturbations  ?" 


204  MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN.  " 

Torrents  of  tears  from  the  eyes  of  the  fair  Amanda  relieved  lier 
gallant  suitor's  suspense,  while  she  struggles  for  utterance  with  her 
irrepressible  emotions.     At  length  she  spoke: 

"Mister  Mitten,  your  noble  nature  assures  me  that  I  may  trust  the 
dearest  secret  of  my  heart  to  you,  without  fear  that  you  will  erer 
betray  the  trust,  under  any  changes  of  feeling,  time  or  place.  I 
frankly  own  that  I  am  and  have  hng  been  most  ardently  attached  to 

you 1  have  sometimes  thought — hoped — that  our  attachment  waa 

mutual.     Yet,  why  did  I  hope  it  ?  when  I  knew  that  we  never  could 
be  united  ?" 

"  Knew  that  we  could  never  bo  united,  my  dearest  Amanda?" 
"Never,  never,  never!"  exclaimed  Amanda,  burying  her  face  in 
her  handkerchief,  and  sobbing  convulsively. 

"  Then  I  am  doomed  to  wretchedness  for  life  !"  ejaculated  Mister 

Mitten.     "  Amanda,  you  are  my  first  love ^" 

"  And  you  are  mine,  William.  My  first,  my  last,  my  only  love. 
When  you  return  to  the  land  of  birds  and  of  flowers,  object  of  my 
adoration,  ,seod  back  a  thought  to  your  poor,  unfortunate,  heart-brokcQ 
Amanda  !" 

"  Amanda,"  said  William,  in  tears,  "  you  said  you  would  entrust 
the  dearest  secret  of  your  heart  to  me  :  tell  me  then  what  insuper- 
able obstacle  there  is  to  our  union  ?" 

"  I  never  violate  my  promise,  dearest  William,  I  am  told  that  you 
are  very,  very  rich;,  and  never  can  I  consent  to  mtirry  a  man  with 
whom  I  cannot  be  upon  an  equality, — a  man  who  must  ever  feel  that 
he  stooped  to  take  his  partner's  hand ;  and  who  may  suppose  that 
the  poor  trash  of  earth,  called  wealth,  had  some  influence  upon  her 
choice.  1  should  be  the  most  miserable  wretch  upon  earth,  to  dis- 
cover in  the  being  I  adore,  anything  going  to  show  that  ho  consider- 
ed me  his  inferior,  or  capable  of  loving  him  for  anything  but  him- 
self." 

'*  These  noble  sentiments,"  responded  Mister  Mitten,  "exalt  you 
higher,  if  possible,   in  my  estimation,  than  ever.     Know,  then,  thou 

sweetest,  purest,  noblest  of  thy  sex,  that  I  am  not  rich " 

"  Not  rich  !     Don't  trifle  with  my  feelings,  William  !" 
"  I  assure  you,  upon  the  honor  of  a  gentleman,   that  I  am  worth 
nothing.     My  mother  owns  a  very  pretty  estate,  which,   when  divid- 
ed between  her  three  children,  will  only  give   a  comfortable  living  to 
each  of  them." 

"  Oh,  happiest  moment  of  my  life  !"  exclaimed  Amanda.  "  Wil- 
liam, there  is  my  hand,  and' with  it  a  heart  that  idolizes  you,  if  you 
choose  to  take  them." 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  205 

"  I  receive  them,"  said  William,  "  and  es^hange  for  them  a  hand 
and  heart  equally  'frarm  and  unwavering." 

Their  vows  were  plighted,  and  they  separated  in  eestacies. 
Fortunately  for  William  this   interview  occurred  on  Friday  night ; 
or  it  would  have  played  the  mischief  with  his  next  day's  recitation. 

The  next  day  William  visited  Miss  Amanda  to  arrange  for  the 
nuptials  ;  and  however  indiscreet  and  rash  we  may  consider  the  en- 
gagement, everybody  must  accord  to  them  the  highest  prudence  in 
settling  the  preliminaries  of  the  nuptials. 

The  arrangement  was  that  MIstrr  Mitten  (so  we  must  now  call  him, 
as  he  is  engaged  to  be  married)  should  go  on  and  complete  his  edu- 
cation, return  to  Georgia  and  spend  two  or  three  months  with  his 
family,  then  go  to  Litchfield,  Connecticut,  and  attend  Judge  Reeves' 
Law  Lectures  for  one  year,  revisit  Georgia,^  get  admitted  to  the  bar 
as  soon  as  possible,  return  to  Princeton,  and  consummate  the  marriage.  . 
Could  old  Parr  himself,  and  a  lady  his  equal  in  years,  have  ordered 
things  more  wisely  !  As  soon  as  matters  were  thus  happily  arranged, 
Mr.  Mitten  said  : 

"I  have  reflected  a  great  deal,  my  Amanda,  upon  matrimonial  en- 
gagements, and  I  have  brought  my  miud  to  the  conclusion  long  ago, 
that  there  is  a  radical  error  in  regard  to  them,  too  common  -in  the 
world.  Let  us  reform  it — at  least  as  far  as  we  can.  I  allude  to  the 
secrecy  with  which  such   engagements  are  kept  by    the   parties  to 

them " 

Miss  Amanda  started "  Why,  if  the  parties  are  sincere  and 

mean  to  be  constant  to  each  other,  should  they  object  to  the  world's 
knowing  of  their  engagement  y  Were  it  generally  known  how  few 
matches  would  be  broken  off  I.  What  man  of  honor  would  pay  his  ad- 
dresses to  a  lady  whom  he  knew  to  be  pledged  to  another  I  What  wo- 
man of  honor  would  receive  the  addres.scs  of  a  man  whom  she  k!new 
to  be  engaged  !  For  my  part,  I  shall  make  no  secret  of  our  engage- 
ment, and  then  if  any  man  dare  to  pay  you  particular  attentions,  I 

shall  hold  him  "personally  responsible " 

"Oh,  William,  my  dearest  William,  do  not  think  of  .><uch  a  thing  ! 
Our  engagement  must  not  be  breathed  to  a  human  being — not  even 
to  father,  mother,  sister  or  brother.     If  our  parents  knew  of  it,  they 

would  certainly  break  it  off  if  they  could,  on  the  ground  of  our  age 

Break  it  off!  No,  that  can  never  be.  Sooner  will  the  moon  cease 
to  shed  her  placid  beams  upon  the  earth,  sooner  will  this  heart  cease  to 
beat,  than  your  Amanda  forget  her  vows,  or  bumnii  power  make  her 
break  them.  But  think  of  the  troubles  that  may  follow  the  disclosure  I 


206  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

Oh,  William,  I  cannot  bear  a  frown,  I  cannot  bear  even  a  cold  look 
from  m_v  dear,  sweet  parents  ;  and  how  would  it  rend  my  heart  to  see 
them  frown  on  you  or  receive  you  distantly " 

"  And  does  Miss  Ward  suppose  that  her  parcuts  would  objeGt  to 
our  alliance? " 

'<  No,  no,  William  :  I'm  sure  they  will  be  delighted  with  it,  at  the 
proper  time  j  but  think  how  young  we  are  !  I  have  heard  my  fath- 
er say  that  the  man  who  has  grown  daiighters  in  Princeton  occupies 
a  very  delicate  position.  To  forbid  them  to  receive  the  visits  of  stu- 
dents, would  be  to  forbid  them  from  receiving  in  the  main,  the  very 
best  society  that  they  could  have,  and  to  violate  the  laws  of  hospitali- 
ty ;  but  to  encourage  students  in  making  love  to  their  daughters, 
was  injustice  to  the  students,  and  treason  to  their  distant  parents. 
Now,  if  he  knew  that  we  yere  engaged,  he  would  be  almost -certain 
to  send  me  away  to  some  boarding  school — and  what  pain  would  that 
give  us  !  And  suppose  another  should  address  me  ;  does  my  Wil- 
liam think  that  there  is  another  in  this  wide  world  who  can  make  the 
least  impression  on  his  Amanda's  heart?  Can  you  doubt  your  Aman- 
da's constancy  ?  Can  you  fear  that  anything  on  earth  could  chill 
her  first,  her  only  love,  in  a  few  short  years  ?  No,  William,  whether 
you  remain  true  or  false,  never,  never,  can  I  love  another.  The  very 
thought  iJtartles  me  like  an  electric  shock.  The  keenest  pang  I  ever 
felt,  was  at  hearing  ray  mother  say  that  my  father  was  not  her  first 
love — I  ought  not  to  have  mentioned  it — I  have  never  breathed  it  to 

another;  but  to  you  I  may  entrust  it,  for  we  are  soon  to  be  one 

From  you  I  can  conceal  nothimr.  But  what  agony  did  the  disclo- 
sure give  me you'll  never  mention  it,  William  ?" 

"  Never,  Amanda." 

''I  felt  for  days,  weeks  and  months,  as  if  I  were  an  orphan.  Oh,, 
how  rny  heart  sympathized  with  my  dear,  sweet  father!  He  knew 
it  when  he  married  mother.  They  live  happily  together.  But  it 
seems  to  me,  the  cruel,  bitter  thought  must  sometimes  present  itself, 
'  tliis  heart  was  once  another's — this  heart  was  not  always  mine,'  and 
oh,  what  pain  it  must  give  !  And  what  is  married  life,  if  there  be 
anything  in  it  to  interrupt,  even  for  a  moment,  the  constant  stream 
of  heavenly  bliss  which  it  promises  to  hearts  united  in  the  silken 
cords  of  pure,  ecstatic,  first-born  love  !  There,  William,  you  are  en- 
trusted with  every  secret  of  my  heart."  '    ^      ^ 

Mr.  Mitten  was  so  charmed  with  Miss  Amanda's  sentiments,  and 
enraptured  with  her  eloquence,  that  he  entirely  forgot  the  text.  He 
soon  recovered  it,  however,  and  after  thanking  Miss  Ward  for  her 
confidence,  and  promising  to  keep  it  saered,  he  said : 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MIITEN.  i07 

"Under  all  thb  peculiar  circuiustances  of  the  case,  my  Amanda,  I 
•will  consent  to  keep  oui*  engagement  a  secret;  but,  as  a  general  rule, 
I  think  there  should  be  no  secrecy  in  such  mutters." 

Mr.  Mitten's  mind  being  now  disburdened,  he  resumed  his  studies 
with  alacrity,  and  maintained  his  place  to  the  elo^c  of  the  Sopho- 
more year.  The  vacation  ensued,  and  the  first  five  weeks  of  it  Mr. 
Mitten  devoted  to  Miss  Amanda.  He  took  her  out  almost  daily  on 
pleasure-rides,  lavished  presents  upon  her,  of  the  most  costly  jewelry, 
books,  engravings,  and  love-tokens  innumerable  ;  and  strange  to  tell. 
Miss  Amanda  received  them  without  rebuking  this  ill-advised  waste 
of  his  humble  patrimony.  Nor  was  Mr.  Mitten  less  attentive  to  the 
decoration  of  his  own  person,  than  of  Miss  Amanda's.  He  laid  in  a 
profusion  of  coats,  vests,  pants,  gloves,  stockings,  boots,  shoes,  pumps 
and  under  garments,  all  at  the  highest  ^iriccs,  and  in  the  most  fash- 
ionable style.  To  his  y.ther 'purchases  he  added  an  elegant  watch, 
chain,  seals  and  key,  and  a  handsome  diamond  breast  pin.  ■  i\Iany  of 
these  things  were'  purchased  upon  a  short  credit,  to  bo  paid  for  as 
soon  as  he  could  gee  remittances  from  home.  With  all  his  aceom- 
plishmedts  there  was  one  wanting  to  make  him  pertect  in  Miss 
Amanda's  eye,  and  that  was,  "  the  poetry  of  motion."  Herein  Miss  - 
Amanda  excelled,  and  she  urged  him  to  put  himself  under  Monsieur 
Coupee,  to  add  this  to  his  many  graces.  She  said  that  she  was  very 
fond  of  cotillon  parties,  but  that  they  liad  lost  all  interest  to  her  since 
she  learned  that  he  did  not  dance,  lie  took  her  advice.  As  "the 
poetry  of  motion,"  cotillon  measure,  consists  entirely  of  anaptcstsand 
dactyls,  performed  with  alternate  I'ect,  Mr.  Mitten  soon  mastered  this 
acoomplislMfcCnt.  Thus  went  oil'  the  first  month  and  a  quarter  of  the 
vacation. 

rWith  all  his  expenditures  he  had  taken  care  to  reserve  money 
enough,  as  ho  supposed,  to  spend  a  few  days  in  Morristown,  a  week 
in  Newark,  aud  a  week  in  New  York,  without  exhausting  his  funds. 
At  the  commencement  of  his  sixth  week,  of  the  vacation,  lie  set  out 
for  Morristown.  Here  lived  a  class-mate  of  his,  who  insisted  ifpon 
his  spending  a  week  with  him.  Mitten  consented.  A  round  of  par- 
ties ensued,  all  of  which  he  attended,  and  at  all  of  which  he  played 
havoc  with  the  hearts  of  tho  girls  of  Morristown.  From  his  class- 
mate th6  report  soou  spread  through  the  village,  that  he  was  the 
first  scholar  in  his  class,  and  immensely  rich.  These  things  conspir- 
ing with  his  fine  person,  graceful  manners,  and  agreeable  conversa- 
tion, made  him  absolutely  .irresistible..  Now  there  happened  to  be 
in  Morristown  at  this  time,  a  young  lady  from  South  Carolina,  of  the 


208^  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

Bethlehem  School,  who  was  spending  her  .vacation  with  a  relative  of 
the  village,  or  rather  making  Morristown  her  headquarters  for  the 
vacation.  Her  name  was  Louisa  Green,  she  was  behind  Miss  Ward 
in  nothing,  and  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  ahead  of  her  in  point 
of  fortune.  Miss  Green  and  Mr.  Mitten  being  both  from  the  South, 
naturally  formed  a  strong  partiality  for  each  other  ;  of  course  it  did 
not  amount  to  love  on  William's  part,  but  it  amounted  to  love  palpably, 
on  Louisa's  part.  As  she  was  from  the  South,  William  felt  himself 
bound  to  pay  her  particular  attentions.  Accordingly  he  did  all  that 
he  could  to  make  her  time  pass  agreeably  during  his  stay  in  Morris- 
town.  He  could  but  observe  the  tokens  of  her  favor,  and  they  awak- 
ened in  hira  a  tender  compassion.  She  had  appointed  to  visit  a 
school-mate  in  Elizabethtown,  five  days  after  the  .time  when  he  was 
to  leave  for  Newark.  He  offered  to  wait  and  accompany  her.  This 
threw  him  five  days  longer  on  his  friend's  hospitality,  ihan  he  con- 
tracted for,  but  he  was  welcome.  She  accepted  his  oiler  thankfully. 
They  went — he  was  introduced  to  her  young  friend,  who  prevailed 
upon  him  to  spend  two  or  three  days  in  Elizabethtown.  He  con- 
sented— parties  commenced  on  the  second  day  after  his  arrival,  and  ' 
«vere  kept  up  with  but  short  intervals  for  nine  days.  The  scenes  of 
Morristown  were  renewed.  He  had  set  every  day  for  the  last  six, 
for  leaving  Elizabethtown,  but  something  or  other  always  delayed  his 
departure.  The  school-mates  of  Elizabethtown  planned  a  visit  to  a 
third,  in  New  York,  for  a  few  days.  As  this  jumped  with  William's 
plans  exactly,  and  promised  to  make  his  visit  to  New  York  pleasura- 
ble infinitely  beyond  his  anticipations,  he  proposed  to  accompany 
the  young  ladies.  They  accepted  his  proposition  with  plelfeure.  It 
required  three  days  to  prepare  the  young  ladies  for  their  contempla- 
ted trip,  and  these  embraced  the  opening  of  the  college  term.  Time 
had  run  off"  so  merrily  that  he  had  not  kept  count  of  it,  and  he  was 
thunderstruck  when  a  question  put  to  him  about  the  college,  remind- 
ed him  that  the  term  opened  on  the  day  before  he  was  to  leave  with 
his  fair  companions  for  New  York.  What  was  he  to  do  ?  Violate 
his  pledge  to  the  young  ladies  ?     That  would  never  do. 

He  determined  to  conduct  them  to  New  York,  and  hasten  on  to 
College.  When  he  came  to  settle  up  his  bills  in  Elizabethtown,  he 
was  thunderstruck  again  ;  they  were  four  times  as  large  as  he  antici- 
pated, and  in  counting  up  his  cash,  he  found  that  he  had  barely 
enough  left  to  take  him  to  New  York  and  back  to  Princeton.  The 
ladiej  were  delayed  a  day  beyosd  the  appointed  time  by  some  acci- 
dent.    Mr.  Mitten  was  in  torments.     It  was   certain  that  his  funds 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTKN.  209 

would  give*out  before  he  reached  Princeton;  and  here  in  aland  of 
strangers,  what  was  he  to  do?  In  this  emergency,  it  had  just  occur- 
red to  him  that  he  had  been  very  remiss  in  not  paying  his  respects  to 
Mr.  Beach,  and  he  concluded  to  spend  a  part  of  the  spare  day  with 
this  kind  friend.  Mr.  ]icach  hardly  knew  him  when  he  presented 
himself  at  his  door,  so  changed  was  he  in  every  thing.  After  a  vis- 
it of  an  hour,  "  Mr.  Beach,"  said  William,  "  I  have  been  out  spend- 
ing the  vacation,  and  my  expenses  have  been  so  much  heavier  than  I 
expected,  that  I  have  got  out  of  money  ;  could  you  favor  me  so  far 
as  to  loan  me  thirty  dollars,  and  I  will  give  you  an  order  on  Mr.  San- 
ders for  the  amount,  or  I  will  send  it  to  you  as  soon  as  I  get  back  to 
coUejlB."  "Certainly,  William,"  said  Mr.  Beach,  *'  I  will  take  the 
order,  and  if  you  pay  it  when  you  get  to  college,  I  will  send  it  to 
you.  The  money  was  loaned,  and  William  returned  to  Elizabeth- 
town  rejoicing.  On  their  way  to  New  York  ho  suggested  to  Miss 
Green  that  the  college  term,  had  opened  and  that  on  the  day  after 
their  arrival  in  New  York,  he  would  be  compelled  to  return  to  col- 
lege. She  expressed  her  regrets  that  they  must  part,  probably  never 
to  meet  again,  but  hoped  that  they  would  renew  their  acquaintance, 
after  their  return  home.  William  proposed  ».friendli/  correspondence 
ad  inter  an.  She  said  she  could-  not  promise  that,  as  the  pupils  of 
her  school  were  forbidden  to  correspond  with  young  gentlemen  ;  but 
y  he  chose  to  write  to  her  she  had  no  objections.  On  their  arrival 
in  New  York,  the  news  greeted  them,  that  on  the  evening  of  the 
next  day  two  of  the  greatest  tragedians  of  the  age  were  to  appear  in 
the  principal  parts  of  Shakspeare's  Othello.  William  had  never 
seen  a  play  acted  by  professed  performers,  and  "as  he  had  overstayed 
his  time  any  how,  and  one  day  more  could  not  make  much  diflerence," 
he  determined  to  prolong  his  visit  that  far,  and  take  the  ladies  to  the 
theatre.  He  procured  tickets  for  the  three  young  ladies,  but  as  the 
father  of  the  one  whom  the  others  were  visiting,  chose  to  accompany 
them  all  to  the  theatre,  and  furnish  tickets  himself,  W^Uliam  had  two 
on  hand  either  to  use  or  throw  away  at  hi.**  option.  He  was  transport- 
ed with  the  performance,  Hamlet  was  announced  for  the  next  night ; 
but  as  the  ladies  declined  going  to  the  theatre  two  nights  in  succes- 
sion, he  went  alone.  Macbeth  was  announced  for  the  next  night; 
and  as  all  the  girls  must  see  .this  play,  they  went  as  before  ;  W^illiam 
acconipanying.  The  day  following  he  left  for  Princeton,  and  reach- 
ed there  with  ju«t  seventy-tivo  cents  in  his  pocket. 

His  class-mate  of  Morristown  {Jolimon  bj^  name)  brought  down 
his  history  to  his  departure  from  that  village.     "  He  went  oiF,"  said 


210  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

Johnson,  "after  a  beautiful  accomplished  South  Carolina  heiress, 
worth  a  cool  hundred  thousand  in  cash,  with  hinhy-lieads  according; 
and  he  has  only  to  stretch  out  his  hand  to  her  and  she'll  snatch  at  it; 
for  everybody  sees  that  she  is  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  him, 
as  indeed  all  the  girls  in  Morristown  are  ;  for  Bill  is  death  among  the 
pullets."  This  report  mitigated  the  anxiety  of  his  Georgian  compan- 
ions concerning  hiui,  but  did  jaot  entirely  relieve  them  ;  for  they 
feared  the  consequences  of  William's  change  of  habits,  not  only  upon 
his  stand  in  College,  but  upon  hisfuture  life. 

We  have  said  that  he  had  four  competitors  for  the  lirst  honor, 
but  there  was  only  one  of  them  that  he  had  cause  to  dread,  for 
though  the  five  were  equal  in  mathematics,  there  was  but  orie'who 
approached  him  in  the  other  studies.  This  one  was  Taliaferro  (pro- 
nounced Tpliver)  of  Virginia.  When  at  the  opening  of  the  term, 
the  class  appeared  to  recite  in  mathematics,  and  Taliaferro  found 
Mitten  absent,  his  countenance  kinclled  with'  delight.  Ilis  delight 
increased  with  every  recitation  in  this  study,  until  it  came  to  the 
fifth.  As  he  retired  from  this  he  said  triumphantl}',  ''  I've  got  him 
safe — I've  got  this  brilliant  young  Georgian  just  as  the  owl  had  the 
hen,  so  that  he^'can  neither  back  nor  squall.  With  his  head  full  of 
girls  and  fortune,  if  ever  he  keep^  up  with  the  class,  and  makes  up 
■five  lost  lessons,  he  is  a  smarter  man  than  I  think  he  is,  and  I  think 
he  is  the  smartest  I  ever  saw."  Taliaferro  thus  spoke  because  ne 
well  knew  that  a  lost  recitation  in  mathematics  is  almost  as  fatal  to 
farther  progress  in  the  science,- as  the  loss  of  one  of  the  nine  digits 
would  be  to  enumeration.  And  yet  if  AYilliam  had  determined  to 
do  it,  he  could  have  made  up  his  deficiencies  before  the  end  of  the 
Junior  year,  and  thrown  Taliaferro  far  in  his  rear  in  the  Senior  year. 
Why  he  did  not,*  we  shall  see.  When  called  to  account  for  his  ab- 
sences he  said  "  hf  was  necesi^arilij  detained." 

Having  followed  Mitten's  movements  during  the  vacation,  let  us 
now  unveil  some  of  his  thoughts  and  reflections  accompanying  these 
movements.  "  Here  it  is  now,"  mused  he  on  the  fifth  day  of  his 
acquaintance  with  Miss  Green.  "If  Amanda  had  not  made  me 
promise  to  keep  our  engagement  secret,  I  could  now  tell  Louisa  of  it, 
and  let  her  understand  the  true  ground  of  my  attentions  to  her ;  but 
as  it  is,  I  must  cither  be  distant  to  her — which  would  be  unpardon- 
able in  me  as  she  is  from  the  South — or  I  must  encourage  her  at- 
tachment  which  is  plainly  visible  and  growing.  Amanda  will  hear 
of  my  attentions  through  Johnson,  and  suppose  I  am  after  Louisa's 
fortune.  No,  dear  girl,  -fortune  shall  never  make  me  sacrifice  my 
word  and  my  honor." 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  211 

On  the  seventh  day :  "  It  was  very  indiscreet  in  Amanda  to  exact 
tliat  promise  from  me,  I  don't  know  bow  to  act  under  it." 

Ninth  day  :  "  Hang  that  silly  promise  I  I'll  keep  it,  but  I  fear  I 
shall  never  feel  towards  Amanda  as  1  should  have  felt  if  she  had  not 
extorted  it  from  me.  I  was  too  liasty  in  making  il — in  fact  I  was 
too  hasty  in  the  whole  matter.  Well,  whatever  may  come  of  it,  I  shall 
not  forego  duty  to  a  Southern  friend,  far  from  home,  because  I  hap- 
pen to  be  engaged." 

On  the  day  he  visited  Mr.  Beach  :  "  What  a  botheration  it  is  to 
want  money — I  doubt  whether  Amanda  will  over  be  satislied  to  live 
in  Georgia.  I  wish  she  was  not  quite  so  romantic.  It  was  very  im- 
prudent in  her  to  speak  of  her  father  and  mother  as  .she  did  to  me — 
I  don't  believe  one  can  love  truly  but  once ;  I  believe  I  could  love 
Louisa  just  as- ardently  as  I  love  her,  if  I  would  allow  myself  to  do 
so. 

On  the  day  he  left  Nov.'  Yorlv  :  "  One  hundred  thousand  dollars  ! 
I  wish  I  had  fifty  of  it  now.  What  a  sum  it  is  I  Enough  to  last  a 
man's  life  time,  and  satisfy  every  desire  of  his  heart.  One  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  and  a  beautiful  intelligent  lovely  Southern  girl 
to  bodt !  Amanda  ought  to  adore  me  for  resisting  such  a  temptation 
for  her  sake." 

On  reaching  Princeton,  he  went  immediately  to  see  Amanda  and 
found  her  in 'deep  distress.  She  said  "she  had  been  meditating 
suicide,  but  she  could  not  leave  the  world  without  one  more  last, 
longing,  lingering  look  upon  her  William."  Upon  his  assuring  her, 
however,  that  he  was  not  engaged  to  iMiss  Green,  that  he  had  not 
proposed  himself  to  her,  and  that  lie  would  have  informed  her  of 
his  engagement,  if  he  had  not  been  forbidden  to  do  so,  Miss  Aman- 
da was  greatly  comforted,  insomuch  that  bhe  concluded  to  postpone 
the  suicide  to  a  more  suitable  sfiason.  She  entertained  him  with  a 
melting  narrative  of  her  soliloquies  and  tears  over  breastpins,  lockets 
and  the  like,  which,  as  it  came  just  at  the  time  when  he  was  terribly 
pinched  for  money,  produced  a  double  sympathy — or  rather  an  oscil- 
lating sympathy,  which  played  so  equally  bet  weeu  himself  and  Miss 
Amanda,  that  she  could  not  utiderstand  it,  and  took  it  for  coldness. 
They  parted,  however,  with  renewed  profes.sions  of  love. 

Markham,  Thompson  and  Brown,  had  together  paid  a  short  visit 
to  Philadelphia,  Trenton  and  Monmouth,  early  in  the  vacation,  and 

♦At  this  tirao  Jersey  bank  billa  were  juat  as  current  in  Georgia  aa  gold  and 
silver. 

The  first  one  dollar  bill  that  ever  wa.s  seen  in  Georgia  was  from  a  Jeraoy 
bank. 


212  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

returned  to  Princeton.  On  their  return,  Brown  enclosed  a  fifty  dol- 
lar bill*  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Markham,  saying  :  "I  have  saved  this 
much  out  of  my  allovrance  without  stinting  myself  in  the  le^t.  If 
you  think  it  would  not  be  wrong  to  appropriate  it  to  ray  mother's 
necessities,  please  deal  it  cut  to  her  as  she, needs.  Apply  all  of  it 
but  what  is  absolutely  necessary  to  keep  my  mother  above  want,  to 
the  schooling  of  my  two  little  sisters.  But  if  you  think  that  I  have 
no  right  to  use  the  money  in  this  way,  please  return  it  to  the  kind 
gentlemen  who  raised  it  for  me ;  and  tell  them  that  it  is  more  than 
I  need,  and  I  think  in  justice  it  ought  to  be  returned  to  them."  "We 
need  hardly  say  that  this  letter  made  John's  patrons  feel  uiuch  more 
like  doubling  than  reducing  their  contributions  to  him. 

From  New  V^ork  William  had  written  a  letter  to  his  mother,  set-- 
ting  forth  that  he  had  greatly  miscalculated,  in  saying  that  five,  hun- 
dred dollars  per  annum  would  be  amply  sufficient  to  pay  his  College 
expenses.  Traveling  expenses,  he  said,  far  exceeded  his  expecta- 
tions— that  he  had  set  out  from  Princeton  on  a  vacation  ramble,  with 
money  enough  in  hand,  he  thought,  to  pay  his  expenses  three  times 
over,  and  after  visiting  only  three  places,  he  was  in  New  York  with 
hardly  money  enough  to  pay  his  reckoning,  and  get  him  back  to 
Princeton ;  and  there  his  board  and  tuition  would  have  to  be  paid 
in  advance.  lie  concluded  by  begging  her  to  send  him  on  tvro  hun- 
dred dollars  as  speedily  as  possible.  Here  was  the  very  place  for 
him  to  have  informed  his  mother  that  he 'had  borrowed  money  from 
Mr.  Beach,  and  to  have  informed  Mr.  Sanders  through  her,  how  he 
came  to  draw  on  him..  But  he  knew  that  it  would  mortify  his  moth- 
er exceedingly,  to  leara  that  he  was  repaying  Mr.  Beach's  kindness 
by  taxing  his  purse;  and  he  intended  to  stop  the  draft  from  going 
to  the  drawee,  by  payment  of  it.  Brown's  letter  had  a  fortnight  or 
more  the  start  of  William's,  and  its  contents  were  known  to  every- 
body in  the  village  in  three  days  after  it  had  reached  Mr.  Markham. 
When  William's  letter  therefore  reached  home,  it  alarmed  and  dis- 
tressed his  mother  exceedingly.  She  gathered  the  money  as  soon 
as  shft  possibly  could,  (borrowing  a  part  of  it)  and  dispatched  it  to 
William,  with  a  letter  eloquently  expressive  of  her  feelings.  "  How 
is  it,  my  dear  boy,"  said  she,  "  that  John  Brown,  with  his  limited 
resources,  can  visit  Philadelphia,  Treuton  and  Monmouth,  and  yet 
send  hither  fifty  dollars  out  of  his  income,  to  assist  his  poor  mother, 
and  school  his  little  sisters;  and  you  cannot  visit  as  many  places 
without  exhausting  your  funds  and  requiring  two  hundred  dollars 
over?"     The    whole  letter  would  fill  every  reader's  eyes  with  tears; 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  213 

• 
but  we  have  uot  time  and  space  for  it  here.  By  the  ghortest  pos- 
sible course  of  mail,  William  could  not  ri'ccive  an  answer  to  his  let- 
ter in  less  than  a  month  tro»»  its  date.  In  the  meantime  he  must  be 
shut  out  of  College,  if  he  could  not  rai.'-e  the  tuition  fees  at  least. 
His  only  course  was  to  borrow,  lie  went  to  his  cousin  David,  who 
loaned  him  fifteen  dollars,  all  "  he  had  over,"  as  the  merchants  suy. 
He  went  to  Markham,  and  be  loaned  him  twenty,  saying  "  this  is  all 
I  have,  but  go  to  Brown,  I  know  he  has  over  fifty  dollars,  for  we 
compared  notes  when  we  got  back  to  College. "'  He  went  to  Browu 
and  asked  the  loan  of  fifteen  dollars.  "  William,"  said  Brown,  "  I 
would  loan  it  to  you  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  but  Fhave  it  not 
— here  are  three  dollars,  ail  I've  got,  whieh-you  are  welcome  to,  if  it 
will  be  of  any  service  to  you."  William  loqked  on  him  furiously  and 
said — "  Brown,  if  I  don't  raise  fifteen  dollars,  I  can't  get  back  into 
College,  and  I  know  you  have  that  much,  and  three  times  that 
much."  "  William,  I  give  you  my  word  md  honor  I  have  but  three 
dollars  iu  the  world.  How  can  you  i-uppt.se  that  I  would  not  loan  it 
to  you  if  I  had  it?  If  there's  anythiyr;  I  have,  by  sale  of  which 
you  can  raise  the  amount,  go  take  it  and  sell  it,  with,  all  my  heart 


William  wheeled  off  in  a  rage,,  and  hastened  to  Thompson  and 
Markham,  faying  "  Who. could  believe  it  possible,  that  John  Brown 
would  see  me  shut  out  of  college,  rather  tUan  loan  mc  fifteen  dollars! 

He  says  he  has  but  three  dollars  in  the  xorld "     "■  John  Brown 

says  so  !"  exclaimed  the  two.     '•  Come,"  said  Thompson,    "  let's  go 
and  bring  him  face  to  face." 

Away  they  went  and  Brown  seeing  them  coming  turned  pale  as  a 
sheet.  "Look  at  his  countenahce,"  wliis^ered  William.  "John 
Brown,"  said  Thompson,  '•  did  you  tell  cousin  William  that  you  hadn't 
fifteen  dollars  in  the  world  ?" 

'*  Yes,  and  I  told  him  the  truth " 

"Didn't  you  tell  George  Markham  and  my.self  that  you  brought 
hack  from  your  travels  money  enough  to  j  ly  tuition  and  board,  and 
leave  you  over  fifty  dollars  in  hand  ?" 

"  Yes  !  did  ;  but  I  have  di.'poscd  of  fifty  dollars  of  it." 

'*  liow  did  you  dispose  of  ic  1" 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  tell,  but  in  a  way  tliat  all  of  you  would  approve 
off  if  I  were  to  tell  you— indeed  I  do  not  know  myself  as  yet,  how  it 
went " 

'<  Did  you  ever  hear  such  ehat,"  said  William,  "from  anybody  but 


214  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN". 

an  idiot  since  you  4ere  boru  !     Disposed  of  it  as  we  all  would  ap- 
prove, and  does'nt  know  himself  how  he  disposed  of  it !" 

The  bojs  wheeled  ofi"  indignantly.       * 

"Stop,  boys,"  said  Brown,  with  streaming  eyes,  "and  I  will  ex-, 
plain " 

"  We  want  no  explanations,  sir/'  said  William.  "  Dig  a  mole  out 
of  the  dirt  and  stick  him  on  a  steeple,  and  he'll  be  a  mole  still." 

No  pen  can  describe  John's  agony.  He  saw  himself  deserted 
by  the  sons  of  his  benefactors — he  knew  that  they  all  believed  that 
he  had  lied;  and  he  knew  that  before  the  morrow  s  sun,  it  would  be 
trumpeted  all  through  the  College  that  the  bright  Mitten  was  kept 
from  his  class  by  his  meanness.  In  the  midst  of  his  horrors,  the 
bell  summoned  him  to  recitation.  The  class  was  arranged  alphabet!-, 
cally,  and  his  name  was  the  first  on  the  list.  The  Professor  called 
on  him;  he  rose  tried  to  suppress  his  emotions,  but  could  not;  and 
he  resumed  his  seat,  his  bosom  heaving,  and  his-  eyes  streaming  as 
though  his  heart  would  break.  The  class  stood  aghast,  and  the 
Professor  looked  sad;  for J3rown  had  not  been  remiss  in  a  single 
College  duty.  Keen  as  was  his  anguish,  it  would  have  been  aggra- 
vated heavily,  but  for  George  JIarkham's  prudence. 

"Boys"  said  he,  "it  isn't  worth,  while  to  spread  this  thing 
through  the  College — at  least  let  us  wait  awhile  before  we  do  it.  Ke- 
member  that  he  is  a  Georgian,  has  been  our  intimate  friend,  and  it 
wiU'be  flung  up  to  as  upon  all  occasions.  And  after  all,  I  never 
kneVr  John  Brown  to  tell  a  lie  in  my  life,  and  he  may  be  enabled  to 
explain  the  matter." ' 

After  some  debate  they  agreed  to  keep  the  matter  to  themselves. 
That  very  day  John  received  tidings  of  liis  fiither's  death,  and  as  no 
body  thought  of  enquiring  as  to  the  precise  time  when  he  received 
the  intelligence,  it  was  regarded  by  the  class  as  the  cause  of  his 
emotion  in  the  recitation  room,  and  by  his  three  friends  as  an  addi- 
tional inducement  to  deal  tenderly  with  him.  Thompson  borrowed 
the  fifteen  dollars  for  William,  and  he  joined  his  class. 

Tbus  stood  matters  when  Mrs.  Mitten's  letter  was  received.  As 
soon  as  William  read  it,  he  hastened  to  Thompson  and  Markham'g 
room  with  it,  handed  it  to  his  cousin,  flung  himself  into  a  seat, 
dropped  his  forehead,  hands-covered  on  his  knees,  and  wept  bitterly. 
Thompson  read  it,  and  passed  it  in  sobs  to  Markham.  He  was  not  so 
much  aftected,  and  spoke  first : 

"  The  Lord  be  praised  that  we  kept  our  notions  of  John's  conduct 
from  the  college.     Why  this,  and  our  coldness,  and  his  father's  death 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITl'EN.  215 

all  coming  upon  liiin  at  ouce,  would  have  killed  the  poor  fellow.  He's 
almost  heart-broken,  any-how.  What  a  warning  is  this  to  us  against 
acting  hastily  in  such  nmtterg  !  Let  ua  send  for  him,  and  relieve 
both  him  and  ourselves  immediately.''  He  was  sent  for,  and  as  soon 
as  ho  entered  the  room,  they  all  rushed  to  him  and  embraced  him 
together.  "Oh,  John,"  continued  Markham,  "we  know  what  you 
did  with  your  fifty  dollar.^,  and  we  are  all  ashamed  of  ourselves." 

f  John,"  said  William,  '•  I  beg  your  pardon  ten  thousand  times — " 

"  And  I." 

"And  I." 

"John,"  said  William,"  "how  could  you  say,  you  didn't  know  as 
yet  how  your  money  went?" 

"  iiecause  I  didn't  know  that  it  would  be  right  in  me  to  take  mon- 
ey raispd  for  my  education,  and  apply  it  to  the  use  of  my  motherand 
sisters ;  so  I  sent  it  to  Mr.  Markham  and  told  him,  if  he  thought  I 
had  no  right  to  u?e  it  in  this  way,  to  return  it  to  the  gentlemen  who 
raised  it  for  me,  and  T  don't  know  which  way  it  went,  even  now,  for 
Mr.  Markham  said  nothing  to  me  about  it  in  the?  letter  reporting  my 
father's  death." 

"  John,"  continued  William,  "  I  never  shall  forgive  myself  for  my 
treatment  of  yon.  1  had  souie  apology  for  suspecting  you  of  insin- 
cerity, but  I  had  none  for  that  vile,  unfeeling,  brutal  remark  of 
mine — " 

"  What  remark,  William  V 

"About  the  molo."      . 

"I  didn't  hear  that." 

"  You  didn't !  Thank  heaven,  that  you  did  not,  but  it's  none  the 
less  mean  on  that  account." 

William  paid  the  sums  borrowed  and  his  board  ;  and  now  the  mer- 
chants, tailors,  shoe-makers  and  jewelers  began  to  press  him.  They 
always  press  at  the  opening  and  close  of  terms,  because  students  are 
then  commonly  full-handed;  but  they  had  other  reasons  for  pressing 
in  this  instance.  The  balance  of  his  two  hundred  dollars,  save  fif- 
teen reserved  went  in  less  than  a  fortnight,  without  paying  more  than 
fifty  cents  on  the  dollar  of  his  debts.  Youth-like,  he  thought  more 
of  the  annoyances  of  creditors  than  of  their  respective  claims  upon 
his  honor,  and  Mr.  IJeach  was  postponed  to  the  most  ravenous.  Some 
of  these,  all  of  whom  understand  well  the  art  of  milking  students, 
said  "  that  they  were  not  in  the  habit  of  crediting  students,  but  that 
everybody  represented  Mr.  Mitten  as  such  a  brilliant,  high-minded, 
rich  and  honorable  young  man,  that  they  would  have  trusted  him  for 


216  if  ASTER  WILLDLif  MlTTEM". 

half  their  goods."  Others  .said,  "  that  relying  certainly  upon  pay- 
ment at  this  time,  they  had  contracted  dehts  on  the  faith  of  it,  and 
if  disappointed,  they  did  not  know  what  was  to  become  of  them." 
Another  said,  "If  Mr.  Mitton  couldn't  pay  him  all,  he  would  be  very 
glad  to  get  half  the  amount  due,  to  keep  his  wife  and  children  from 
suffering."  Thus  they  went  on  wHh  every  variety  of  experiment 
upon  his  feolin-gs,  until  he  began  to  think  that  his  own  character^  the 
character  of  the  South,  and  all  Priuceton,  were  likely  to  sink  tog(;th- 
er  in  one  common  grave  of  indiscriminate  ruin.  Most  of  Mr.  Mit- 
ten's debts  had  been  contracted  within  the  past  three  mouths,  and 
many  of  the  students,  well  posted  in  such  matters,  testified  with  be- 
coming indignation,  that  such  a  thing  v.'as  unheard  of  in  the  history 
of  Princeton,  as  dunning  students  for  debts  but  three  months  old; 
and  two  or  three  proposed,  in  vindication  of  the  time-honored  usages 
of  the  place,'  to  stone  the  windows  of  the  importunate  creditors  ;  but 
Mr.  Mitten,  partly  from  the  lights  of  Mr.  M«rkham's  counsels,  and 
partly  from  his  own  good  sense,  opposed  all  violent  measures,  as  he 
could  not  see  how  tfiese  would  sustain  his  credit  or  cancel  his  debts^ 
But  there  were  two  specialties,  which  hurried  the  creditors  ;  the  one 
was,  that  Mr.  Mitten  had  promised  to  pay  them  at  the  opening  of  the 
term,  and  the  other  was,  that  Miss  Amanda,  either  from  love  of  truth, 
or  the  truth  of  love,  had  corrected  the  popular  opinion  of  Mr.  Mit- 
ten's vast  wealth,  and  represented  him,  upon  his  own  authority,  as 
not  only  not  very  rich,  but  veri/  poor.  The  torments  of  creditors 
abated  considerably  the  rapture  with  which  Mr.  ^litten  was  wont  to 
view  the  ornaments  of  ^liss  Ward's  person,  interfered  with  his  stud- 
ies, and  set  his  thoughts  to  running  upon  filthy  lucre.  He  commenc- 
ed his  friendly  correspondence  with  Miss  Green.  His  first  letter  was 
exceedingly  friendly.  He  waited  the  proper  time  for  an  answer,  but 
received  none.  He  wrote  another,  still  more  friendly,  but  received  no 
answer.  He  wrote  another  in  the  very  agony  of  friendship.  To  this 
he  received  the  following  answer: 

'*  All  yo*ur  letters  have  been  received.  They  have  given  the  Prin- 
cipal of  the  School  great  uneasiness,  and  me  great  delight.  He 
knows  only  whence  they  come — know  you  whether  they  have  gonej 
into  the  most  hallowed  chamber  of  my  heart.  Mail  your  letters 
anywhere,  but  at  Princeton;  my  answers  will  be  returned  through  a 
confidante  in  Morristown.  Your  Louisa." 

Thenceforward  Mr.  Mitten  could  hardly  do  anything  but  write  let- 
ters. The  two  friends  soon  became  so  much  attached  to  eac|?  other, 
that  they  interchanged  pledges  of  perpetual  union.     The  "  hundred 


MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN.  2l7 

thousand  dollars"  were  no\r  safe,  and  collocre  honors  sank  to  insigni- 
ftcance  in  the  estimation  of  Mr.  Mitten.  IIo  studied  only  to  gradu- 
ate, and  in  the  short  space  of  four  months,  dropped  from  the  head 
below  the  middle  of  his  class.  The  "hundred  thousand"  were  a 
good  way  off,  and  his  demands  for  money  were  immediate  and  press- 
in"'.  To  meet  the  exijjeneies  of  the  time  present,  he  concluded  to 
try  his  slsill  at  cards  with  the  "  Regular  Panel"  of  Princeton.  He 
was  very  successful,  but  still  he  forgot  Mr.  Beach.  The  club,  of 
course,  had  refreshments,  to  counteract  the  effect  of  sedentary  habits 
and  constant  watchings.  They  met  at  Mr.  Mitten's  room,  and  as  he 
had  been  very  succes.sful,  he  was  very  liberal  in  his  supplies  of  good 
cheer.  The  young  gentlemen  enjoyed  themselves  cjuictly  until 
about  one  o'clock  A.  IM.,  when  they  became  rather  troublesome  to  a 
Professor  in  an  adjoining  dormitory.  The  Trofessor  rose,  dressed 
himself,  and  went  to  Mitten's  room  door — listened  awhile  and  knock- 
ed. "  Walk  in,"  said  Mitteti.  The  I'rofessor  attempted  to  open  the 
deor,  but  it  was  locked.  A  shuffling  of  feet,  a  moving  of  chairs,  a 
rattling  of«glasses  were  heard,  and  the  door  was  opened.  The  Pro- 
fessor stepped  in,  found  a  table  pet  out  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
with  two  candles  on  it,  burnt  down  nearly  to  the  socket — two  fellows 
on  Mitten'.s  bed  with  all  their  clothes  on,  fast  aslerp — two  more  in 
his  room-mate's  bed,  covered  over  with  a  counterpane,  except  as  to 
the  heel  of  one  boot — another  just  undressins:  to  "ro  to  bed  under 
same  counterpane  (at  least  he  was  near  that  bed) — another  seated  at 
the  table  studying  the  (Jreck  Lexicon — while  Mr.  Mitten,  whq  open- 
ed the  door,  was  pacing  the  room  in  manifest  indignation.  Though 
Dot  exactly  intoxicated,  he  had  stimulated  his  nervous  pystem  up  to 
nn  unwonted  degree  of  in<lcpendence — while  the  J'rofessor  was  very 
coolly  making  his  observations,  (for  he  was  a  man  of  nerve.)  "  Well, 
sir,"  said  Mitten,  "  I  hope  you  have  nosed  about  a  dormitory  in  which 
you  have  no  business,  to  your  satisfaction."  (Iferc  one  of  the  .'^leep- 
ers,  whose  face  wa.s  to  lighti*,  turned  abruptly  over  with  a  sleepy 
snort :  and  the  Greek  etudent  saw  a  funny  word  in  tho  Lexicon  at 
which  he  gave  a  little  chuckle.  "Not  quite,"  said  the  I'rofessor, 
calmly.  • 

"Well,  sir,"  continued  Mitten,  "I  think  T  can  convince  the  Fac- 
ulty,.and  if  not  the  Faculty,  thcTroRtoes,  that  you  have  no  right  to 
be  poking  about  anoth^-r  Professor's  doruiitor}'  of  nighta." 
"  May-be  so,"  said  tho  Professor  coollv,  still  '''poking  about." 
This  wa-s  the  Professor  of  Mathematics,  who  had  repoatodlv  pro- 
voked Mr.  Mitten,  by  pressing  q)iestion8  upon  him  at  recitation  which 
he  could  not  answer.     This  is  considered  very  impolite  in  all  Colleges. 


218  MASTER   WILLIAJt   MITTEN. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Alas  !  for  the  instability  of  human  happiness  !  Just  before  the 
liital  vacation  of  which  we  have  spoken,  Mrs.  Mitten  was  as  happy 
as  she  could  be  on  this  earth.  Her  two  daughters  had  married  mea 
of  worth,  position  and  fortune,  and  were  comfortably  settled  in 
counties  adjoining  that  in  which  she  resided.  Her  son,  already  dis- 
tinguished, was  on  the  high  road  to  preferment,  and  her  mind  was  at 
pe^ce  with  her  Maker  and  the  world.  What  changes  a  few  months 
more  wrought  in  her  destiny  !  p 

The  events  with  which  we  concluded  the  last  chapter,  occurred  on 
Friday  night,  running  into  Saturday  morning.  On  Monday  morning 
the  Faculty  met  and  Mr.  Mitten  was  sumtiloiied  before  them. 

"  Mitten,"  said  the  President,  "you  are  charged  with  keeping  a 
disorderly  room — with  keeping  intoxicating  liquors  in  your  room — 
with  drinking  intoxicating  liquors — with  playing  cards,  and  with  in- 
sulting Professor  Plus  on  Friday  night  last." 

"  May  I  be  permitted,"  enquired  Mitten,  "  to  ask  upon  what  evi- 
dence these  charges  are  brought  again?t  me  ?" 

"  I  do  not  think,"  suid  the  President,  "  that  you  have  a  right  to 
demand  the  evidence,  until  you  deny  the  charges." 

"  I  hope,"  said  Professor  Plus,  "that  I  shall  be  permitted  to  put 
Mr.  Mitten  in  possession  of  the  evidence  upon  which  the  charges 
are  founded,  before  he  is  required  to  answer  them."  The  President 
nodded  assent.  "  About  twelve  o'clock  or  a  little  aft^r,  on  Friday 
night  last,  I  was  waked  out  of  sleep  by  a  noise  in  the  dormitory 
adjoining  mine.  It  was  not  continuous,  but  fitful,  and  therefore  the 
more  annoying ;  for  with  every  intermission  I  flattered  myself  it 
would  cease,  and  I  would  just  get  into  a  doze,  when  I  was  roused  by 
it  again.  I  endured  it  for  about  an  hour,  when'l  rose,  dressed  my- 
self, went  out,  and  found  that  the  noise  proceeded  from  Mitten's 
room.  I  approached  the  door,  and  paused  for  a  moment  j  just  as  I 
reached  it,  I  heard  five  thumps  on  a  table  in  quick  succession,  fol- 
lowed by  «.  yell  and  profane  swearing.  'But  for  Mitten'e  Jack  of 
Hearts,'  said  a  voice  that  I  took  to  be  Johnson's,  '  I  should  have 
taken  the  pool.  He  plays  the  devil  with  heoj-ts.'  '  Rabb,'  said  one, 
'  you  were  looed.'  'No,  I  wasn't,'  said  Rabb,  '  I  didn't  stand.'  '  It's_ 
Mitten's  deal,'  said  another.  '  No,  it  isn't,'  said  a  third,  '  he  dealt 
last  time.'  Here  I  knocked  and  was  told  to  walk  in,  but  I  found 
the  door  locked.     After  much  shuffling  and  rattling  of  glasses,  I  was 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MITfEN.  219 

admitted.  Upon  entering  the  room,  my  olfactories  were  assailed 
strongly  with  the  fumes  of  wiuc  .ai»d  brandy.''  The  Professor  pro- 
ceeded with  the  details  which  we  have  already  given  the  reader. 

"President  S****,"  said  j\Iitten,  "suppose  a  Professor  of  this 
Institution  should  take  up  a  strong  prejudice  against  a  student,  should 
seek  all  opportunities  of  mortifying  him  and  wounding  his  feelings, 
and  in  order  to  bring  him  before  the  Faculty,  plainly  and  palpably 
violate  the  laws  of  College — fias  the  student  any  redress,  and  how  ?" 

"  Mr.  Mitten,"  said  the  President,  "our  time  is  too  precious  to  be 
occupied  with  the  discussion  an(i  settlement  of  hypothetical  cases  ; 
but  if  you  have  been  thus  aggrieved,  you  should  seek  redress  of  ihe 
Faculty,  and  if  you  do  not  find  it  here,  you  should  appeal  to  the 
Trustees." 

"  So  I  supposed,"  said  Mr.  Mitten,  "and  I  am  now  ready  to  an- 
swer the  charges  brought  against  me,  and  to  lay  .my  complaints  be- 
fore the  Faculty." 

lie  now  delivered  a  flaming  speech,  in  a  remarkably  tine  style  for 
one  of  his  age.  As  to  the  first  charge,  he  said  that  ^*  keeping  a  dis- 
orderly room,"  certainly  implied  something  more  than  having  disor- 
der in- his  room  for  a  single-evening.  So  of  ''Arc/jucy  intoxicating 
IiV{aors  in  hi»  room."  As  to  '^drinkin;/  intoxicating  liquors,"  he 
said  he  would  answer  that  with  the  last  charge,  lie  admitted  there 
was  card-playing,  but  asserted  po.sitively  that  there  was  not  a  bank 
bill,  a  piece  of  gold  or  silver  staked  on  the  game — that  the  pool 
spoken  of  consisted  of  nothing  but  button-molds — " 

"Mr.  Mitten,"  said  the  I'rosidont,  "didn't  those  button-molds 
represent  quarters,  half  dollars  or  dollars,  or  some  other  denomina- 
tion of  money  ?" 

"  Really,  Dr.  S*'*'"''',  I  cannot  sec  how  little  hits  of  bone  could 
rcpre&ent  money.  A  bill  represents  money,  because  it  contains  on  its 
face  a  promise  to  pay  money ;  but- — " 

"  Go  on  with  your  defence,  Mr.  Mitten,"  said  the  President. 

"Before  I  answer  the  last  charge,"  continued  Mitten,  "  I  beg 
leave  to  read  a  laW  of  the  College:  '  One  of  the  Pn>/tssoi-s  shall 
room  in  each  dormitori/,  whose  npicidl  duty  it  shall  ha  to  visit  the 
rooms,  and  keep  order  therein.'  Now,  ijcntlemcn  of  the  Faculty,  (I 
only  address  such,)  you  perceive  that  Professor  Plus  had  no  right  to 
visit  rooms  out  of  his  dormitory.  •  My  dormitory  was  in  charge  of 
Professor  Syncope,  a  man  not  inore  remarkable  for  his  gigantic  in- 
tellect than  he  is  for  his  courtesy,  kindness  and  easy  familiarity  with 
the  students.     He  heard  no  noise,  '  continuous  or  Jii/ul.'     Ih  was 


220  MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN. 

» 
not  disturbed,  and  it  is  very  .strange  that  one  out  of  f he  dormitory 
should  have  been  annoyed  and  disturbed  by  noises  kept  up  for  near 
an  hour,  which  one  in  the  dortnitory  heard  nothing  of.  I  know  thiat 
one  Professor  juay  have  much  more  sensitive  nerves  than  another, 
and  be  much  more  given  to  irntchivgs  and  other  imhcdHties,  but 
these  differences  will  Jiavdly  account  for  the  wonderful  fact,  that  the 
one  should  have  been  kept  awake  an  hour  by  noises,  which  the 
other,  more  likely  to  be  disturbed  by  them,  should  not  have  heard  at 
all.  But,  admitting  that  Professor  Plus  was  disturbed  by  the  noise, 
and  admitting  that  the  iioise  was  twice  as  loud  and  twice  as  long 
continued  as  it  was,  I  deny  his  right  to  come  into  another  Professor's 
dormitory  to  suppress  it.  The  law  is  clear  upon  this  point.  The 
law  says,  there  shall  be  one  Professor  in  each  dormitory ;  Professor 
Plus  says  there  shall  be  two — at  least,  when  he  takes  a  nervous  fit. 
How  far  his  interference  with  I^ofessor  Syncope's  prerogative  com- 
ported with  courtesy  and  delicacy,  it  is  not  my  province  to  determine; 
but  I  have  a  right  to  see  to  it  that  I  am  not  injured  by  the  intrusion. 
While  Professor  Plas  was  in  that  dormitory,  I  regarded  him  as  no 
Professor  at  all — as  having  no  right  to  enter  my  room.  No  one  has 
a  higher  respect  ,for  the  Professors  of  this  institution,  than  I  have  ; 
but  when  a  Professor  so  far  forgets  his  high  and  dignified  position, 
as  to  turn  persecutor  of  those  over  whom  he  is  placed  as  a  protector 
and  instructor,  to  trample  the  laws  of  college  under  foot,  to  usurp 
authority  which  does  not  belong  to  him,  to  forget  the  comity  due  to 
his  associates,  to  pretend  to  superhuman  powers  of  thQ  ^olfactories, 
in  distinguishing  the  odor  of  liquors  assailing  them  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  to  consort  with  owls,  bats,  wolves  and  hyenas " 

"Stop,  Mr.  Mitten,"  said  the  President,  "I  cannot  sit  here  and 
hear  a  Profcssbr  so  grossly  insulted  without  iuterpot^ing  for  his  pro- 
tection." , 

"  I  mentioned  no  names,"  said  Mitten,  "  and  if  the  cap  fits " 

''  I  hope,"  said  Professor  Plus,  smiling  in  common  with  the  other 
Professors,  "  1  hope  that  the  young  gentleman  will  be  permitted  to 
finish  his  speech.  I  speak  candidly  and  sincerely,  when  I  say  that 
I  have  rarely,  if  ever,  had  such  an  intellectual  entertatnment  from 
one  of  his  years.  I  will  thank  him,  however,  to  explain  to  me, 
whei^ln  I  assumed  the  character  of  a  '  persecutor.'  All  the  rest  of 
his  speech  I  underbtand  perfectly,  but  as  to  this  part  I  am  wholly  in 
the  dark." 

"  You  have  called  upon  Marshall,  Morfon  and  myself  to  recite 
oftener,  than  any  other  three  students  in  th«  class,"  said  Mitten. 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MITTEN.  221 

"•I  was  not  apprised  of  that,"  returned  the  Professor,  "though  in 
all  probability  it  is  true.  The  class  is  alphabetically  arranged,  and  T 
conimouly  begin  the  recitation  first  at  one  extreme  of  the  list,  then 
at  the  other,  and  then  at  the  middle.  It  is  frequently  the  case  that 
there  are  not  propositions  enouiih  to  engage  the  whole  class,  and 
whenever  that  is  the  case,  those  near  the  middle  will  have  to  recite, 
no  matter  at  which  end  I  begin.  Now  as  Mitten's  name  stands  right 
between  Marshall's  gnd  Morton's,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  class,'! 
commonly  begin  at  him,  if  I  do  not  commence  at  cither  extreme, 
and  if  I  go  up  from  him,  Morton  will  not  be  called — -if  I  go  down, 
Marshall  will  not  be.  This  will  explain  the  matter,  and  I  am  very 
happy  to  find  that  you  have  no  other  ground  to  base  the  charge  of 
persecution  upon  than  this.  Time  was,  when  Mitten  regarded  it  no 
persecution  to  be  called  on  often  to  recite." 

"  How  much  oftener  have  Marshall  and  Morton  been  called  up 
than  the  rest  of  the  class  ?" 

''  Once." 

"And  you?" 

"  Twice," 

"Mr.  Mitten,"  said  the  President,  "you  will  retire  if  you  plfase." 
He  did  so,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  was  recalled  to  receiv«  the 
judgment  of  the  Faculty,  which,  without  a  dissenting  voice,  was, 
that  he  be  expelled.  In  delivering  the  sentence,  the  President  ad- 
dressed him  very  feelingly — deplored  the  abuses  to  which  he  was 
subjecting  his  cxtraordiri:u-y  mind,  and  exposed  the  absurdity  of  any 
student's  supposing  that  a  Professor  could  take  up  a  prejudice  against 
a  moral,  orderly  student.  He  referred  to  a  law,  which  Mr.  Mitten 
had  entirely  overlooked,  making  it  the  gcntiral  duty  of  all  the  Pro- 
fessors to  preserve  order  in  the  College,  and  see  that  its  laws  were 
obeyed.     The  President  having  concluded, 

"  Dr.  S****,"  said  Mitttcn,  "  will  you  favor  me  so  far  as  to  tell  me 
what  I  am  expelled  for?" 

'•  Certainly,"  said  the  President  j  "  for  keeping — or  if  you  like  the 
term  better — for  haii)»<j  a.  disorderly  room  ;  for  havinrj  and  drinking 
intoxicating  liquors  in  your  room,  for  gamblin'r  in  your  room,  and  for 
gro.'^sly  insulting  a  Professor  in  your  room,  and  still  more  grossly  be- 
fore the  whole  Faculty." 

"  Was  there  any  proof  that  1  drank  li(|Uor  ?" 

"  No  positive  proof,  but  quite  enough  tn  .satisfy  our  niind-i  o^  it." 

"  Gamb.'iiiff  implies  that  we  jdavod  for  inonry — w;is  there  any 
proof  of  thai ?" 


222  MASTER   WILLIAM    MITTEN. 

"  Abundant  proof;  but  we  have  not  time  now  to  give  the  reasons 
of  our  opinion  upon  the  several  charges,  i^uffice  it  to  say  that  you 
have  not  denied  a  single  one  of  them ;  and  as  for  this  one,  we  are 
constrained  to  believe  that  six  young  gentlemen  would  not  have  set 
up  till  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  playing  for  button-molds." 

"  But  four  of  them  had  actually  gone  to  bed,  and  another  was  un- 
dressing to  go  to  bed  when  Professor  Plus  entered." 

"Yes,  but  they  must  have  sit  up  very  late;  for  they  were  so  com- 
pletely exhausted  that  they  could  not  take  time  to  undress ;  and  so 
sleepy,  that  between  the  knock  at  the  door  and  the  opening  of  it, 
they  all  fell  sound  asleep.  They  monopolized  all  the  beds  in  the 
room,  too,  leaving  you  and  your  studious  companion  no  place  to 
sleep  ;  which  was  exceedingly  impolite,  to  say  the  least  of  it  And 
here,  Mr.  Mitten,  is  the  end  of  questions  and  answers." 

Mitten  retired  very  much  incensed,  and  appealed,  not  to  the  Trus- 
tees, but  to  his  fellow-students,  for  justice.  Nine  espoused  his 
cause.  They  disguised  themselves,  serenaded  Professor  Plus  with 
tin  pans,  horns,  and  other  noisy  instruments,  broke  his  windows? 
broke  up  his  black-boards,  and  placarded  him  in  various  ways  and 
places.  Six  were  detected  and  expelled,  of  whom  David  Thompson 
was  one.  Three  escaped  for  want  df  proof  against  them.  Thus  far 
Thompson  had  been  hurried  on  by  blind  impulse ;  but  now  the  hour 
of  sober  reason  had  returned,  and  he  was  overwhelmed  with  the 
troubles  which  gathered  upon  him.  He  was  disgraced  near  the 
close  of  a  creditable  Collegiate  career.  He  had  not  money  to  bear 
his  expenses  home.  He  looked  towards  home  with  horror;  for  his 
mother  was  no  Mrs.  Mitten,  and  Mr.  Markbam  was  a  faithful  repre- 
sentative of  his  father,  and  there  was  the  mortification  of  meeting 
his  many  friends  and  his  father's  friends  as  an  expelled  student.  As 
his  troubles  increased,  so  did  his  indignation  against  his  cousin. 
"  William,"  said  he,  '•  had  you  followed  Mr.  Markham's  advice,  you 
would  have  taken  the  first  honor  in  your  class;  but  instead  of  that, 
3'ou  have  disgraced  youraelf,  disgraced  me,  and  got  five  more  of 
your  fellow  students  expelled.  Two  of  the  three  ringleaders  in  the 
scrape  have  escaped,  while  the  rest  of  us  who  did  nothing  more  than 
join  in  the  serenade  are  dismissed.  Had  Mr.  Markham  been  in- 
spired, he  (?ould  not  have  for.eseen  our  difficulties  clearer,  or  advised 
us  better  about  them  than  he  did.  What  benefit  has  our  frolic  been 
to  you  ?  How  .much  has  it  injured  Plus  ?  Yon  were  justly  pun- 
ished, and  you  know  it;  and  I  know  it;  and  suppose  you  had  been 
unjuslly  punished,  how  could  such  foolery  as  we  went  through  bet- 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITtKN.  223 

ter  your  case  ?  Bad  luck  attends  every  one  who  links  himself  to 
you.  What  am  I  to  do  ?  I've  not  money  enough  to  carry  me 
home " 

"I've  got  nearly  enough  to  carry  us  both  home,  and  I  can  bor- 
row   " 

"And  where  did  you  get  it?  You  won  it ;  and  I  will  not  touch 
a  cent  of  it I'll  tell  you  what  I'm  going  to  do:  I'm  go- 
ing to  acknowledge  my  fault,  promise  a  strict  observance  of  the  rules 
of  the  College  for  the  future,  and  beg  the  Faculty  to  restore  mc " 

"Is  there  a  man  in  whose  veins  the  Thompson  blood  runs  who  can 
let  himself  down  so  low  as  that  I" 

"  Yes,  and  I  am  that  man,  I  have  done  wrong,  and  why  not  con- 
fess it  ?  I  will  confess  it  to  everybody  else  who  cannot  help  me; 
why  not  confess  it  to  the  Faculty  who  may  help  me  ?" 

*•  Well,  if  you  can  truckle  to  men  who  have  treated  your  cousin  as 
the  Faculty  has  treated  mo,  you  can  do  so ;  but  if  you  do,  I  can 
never  feel  to  you  aptiin  as  a  cousin " 

"  Well  then,  we  shall  be  even,  for  I  certainly  do  not  feel  to  you  as 
a  cousin " 

"  l''ou  don't  ?" 

•'  No,  I  don't," 

''  Then,  good  morning,  Mr.  Thompson.  You  can  shape  your 
course  as  you  please,  and  I'll  do  the  same." 

Thompson  followed  his  better  judgment;  and  the  Faculty,  in  con- 
sideration of  his  previous  good  conduct — that  he  bad  never  been 
charged  with  an  offence  before — and  that  he  was  nearly  related  to 
Mitten,  and  therefore  exposed  to  peculiar  temptation  from  him,  com- 
muted the  punishment  from  expulsion  to  three  weeks'  suspension; 
He  rejoiced  at  his  good  fortune,  and  thenceforward  improved  it 
through  life.  Two  of  his  eompanions  in  guilt  tried  the  same  experi- 
ment; but  as  they  had  nothing  to  recommend  them  to  clemency, 
their  sentence  was  unchanged. 

'•And  there  is  Nassau  Hall  justice," 'said  one  of  them.  "Two 
students  in  precisely  the  same  predicament,  one  expelled,  and  the 
other  suspended  for  three  weeks  !     A  glorious  Collopc  this  I" 

ISlr.  Mitten  waited  on  Miss  Ward,  and  informed  her  of  "  the  in- 
justice that  had  been  done  him." 

"  It  only  gives  nic,  dear  William,"  said  she,  "an  opportunity  of 
proving  the  sincerity  of  my  attachment.  As  the  ivy  clings  to  the 
beauteous  column,  whether  erect,  careening,  or  prostrate,  po  my 
heart's  affections  cling  to  my  William,  through  all  the  changes  of 


224  MAStER  WILLIAM  MITTEN. 

life.  There  is  a  sweet  comfort  mingled  witli  the  bitterness  of  your 
misfortune,  my  idol :  it  is,  that  the  hour  which  is  to  unite  our  hearts 
in  the  golden  ch:un  of  wedlock,  will  be  hastened  a  full  year  and  a 
half  or  more." 

William  looked  up  to  the  ceilinj;,  as  if  he  expected  to  see  the  gold 
chain  up  there  ;  and  Amanda  took  his  upturned  eyes  as  an  indication 
of  heavenly  aspiratious,  and  wept. 

"  I  must  tear  myself  from  you,  Amanda,"  said  William,  presenting 
his  hand  and  lips.  She  threw  her  arms  around  him,  and  then  he 
threw  his  arms  around  her.     They  kissed. 

"  Another,"  said  Amanda.  , 

"  And  yet  another." 

And  then  a  long,  long,  "  farewell  !" 

Sho  dropped  her  head  upon  his  bosom  and  wept.  William  covered 
his  face  with  his  handkerchief,  blew  his  nose  twice,  sympathetically, 
heaved  theatrically,  and  waited  a  sign  that  the  tragedy  was  ,over. 
But  as  no  sign  came,  he  said : 

"  We  must  part,  Amanda.  I  never  shall  forget  you — your  all- 
confiding  nature,  your  tender,  warm-hearted  love." 

Here  an  honest  tear  filled  his   eye,  conscience  stving  him,  shame 
reddene'd  his  checks,  and  he  gave  her  a  strong,  remorse-forced  em-9 
brace,  and  tore  himself  from  her,  in  truth.     As  he  left  the  door,  be 
muttered  : 

"Love  like  that  deserves  a  better  return.  How  sincere,  how 
ardent !  How  sweet  her  breath,  how  fervid  her  embrace,  how  elo- 
quent her  grief!  And  yet  they  made  no  more  impression  on  me, 
until  I  began  to  utter  literal  truths  and  mental  lies  as  a  return  for 
her  affection,  than  the  dew-drop  makes  upon  the  flinty  rock  !  Heav- 
ens and  earth  I  What  progress  I  am  making  in  iniquity !  1  am 
already  a  very  devil  !  A  deceiver  of  those  who  love  me  most — my 
mother — Amanda — I  must  not  reckon  up  my  iniquities,  or  they  will 
addle  my  brain,  or  drive  me  tp  suicide." 

He  reached  his  room,  paced  it  awhile  in  anguish,  then  seated 
himself  and  wrote : 

"  My  dearest  Louisa-rlll  health  drives  me  from  college " 

"  Another  lie !"  said  he,  flinging  down  the  pen  and  rising  furi- 
ously. "  How  sin  begets  sin,"  continued  he,  with  hurried  strides 
over  the  room. 

It  was  long  before  he  could  return  to  his  letter;  and  when  he  did, 
ifwa^  only  to  add  : 

"  To-morrow,  I  leave  for  Georgia,  whence  you  will  hear  from  me 
Diore  fully  and  more  affectionately,  on  my  arrival." 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  225 

"  There,"  said  lie,  "  there  is  my  last  lie,  at  least.  I'll  go  home, 
reform,  marry  Louisa,  and  lead  a  new  life." 

He  set  out  for  Georgia  the  next  day,  and  reached  home  without 
delay  or  accident.  The  Sanford  draft  had  preceded  him  just  two 
days.  His  mother  paid  it  promptly,  and  had  just  closed  a  long,  tear- 
bedewed  letter  tahim,  when  he  rushed  into  the  room,  and  advanced 
to  embrace  her.  He  did  embiace  her,  just  in  time  to  sAve  her  from 
falling  to  the  tloor,  for  she  had  swooned  at  the  lirst  sight  of  him. 
Assistance  was  called,  and  she  was  put  to  be'd.  She  r«vived,  em- 
braced her  child  and  swooned  again.  The  doctors  adyised  him  to 
retire  from  her  bedside,  until  she  rocuvered  strength  to  receive  him. 
So  long  did  the  second  paroxysm  continue,  that  even  the  physicians 
began  to  fear  that  life  was  extinct.  She  did  revive,  however,  like 
one  awaking  out  of  a  sweet  sleep.  Casting  her  -eyes  around  the 
room,  she  whispered  : 

"Have  they  taken  him  away  from  me  already  ?" 

"He  is  near  at  hand,  Mrs.  Mitten,"  said  a  physician,  *'and  will 
bo  introduced  again  as  soon  as  you  become  a  little  more  composed." 

"I  am  perfectly  composed  now,"  said  she,  in  the  same  subdued 
tone,  "  let  him  come  in.  Do  you  know  what  brouglit  him  home  so 
sopn  ?" 

'*No,  Mrs.  Mitten,  your  physicians  know  better  when  you  will  be 
prepared  to  receive  him  than  you  do,  and  we  hope  you  will  put 
yourself  under  our  direction." 

"Certainly  I  will,  Doctor.  I  aiji  a  poor,  weak  woman.  I  try  to 
do  right,  but  I  am  always  doing  wrong.  Let  it  be  as  soon  as  you 
can,  Doctor;  but  don't  yield  your  judgment  to  mine,  for  I  have  no 
confidence  in  my  opinions.  I  followed  brother's  advice  while  he 
lived,  and  Mr.  Markham's  after  he  died,  and*!  don't  know  what 
better  I  could  have  done.  I  feel  a  great  deal  better  now.  Doctor; 
don't  you  think  lam?  I  think  I  could  see  him  now  calmly;  if 
nothing  had  brought  him  home." 

One  of  the  physicians  withdrew  to  William's  room  : 

"  William,"  said  he,  "  for  your  mother's  sake  I  enquire  of  yon, 
what  brought  you  home  so  soon  '(" 

"T  was  expelled  from  College,"  said  William.  "  I  need  not  try  to 
oorrceal  \i,  for  it  must  soon  be  known." 

•'  William,"  continued  tl)e  Doctor,  "  if  you  tell  your  mother  that, 
I'm  confident  .she  will  not  survive  it  an  hour.  She  has  been  declining 
in  health  for<>everal  months,  and  your  sudden  appearance  to  her,  has 
brought  her  to  the  tery  brink  of  the  grave " 


226  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

'^  Then,  I  svxppose,  to  the  long  list  of  my  lies,  I  must  add  another 
to  a  dying  mother." 

"  Why,  William,  you  shock  ko!"' 

"I  'wish  heaven's  lightning  would  'shock'  uie,  even  unto  death. 
What  Lcame  into  the  world  for,  I  don't  know,  and  the  sooner  I  go 
out  of  it,  the  better  for  both  the  world  and  myself,  I  reckon." 

"Compost  yourself,  William,  and  if  we  send  for  you,  approach 
your  mother  with  as  much  self-composure  as  possible — '—" 

Just  here  the  Doctor  was  sent  for  in  haste.  He  returned  to  Mrs. 
Mitten,  and  found  her  sinking,  and  begging  to  see  her  son.  He  was 
sent  for,  and  approached  her  with  marvellous  self-command. 

She  reached  forth  her  arras  to  him,  and  he  gently  bent  himself  to 
their  embrace.  She  held  him  long  to  her  bosom,  a  flood  of  tears 
came  to  her  relief,  and  she  brightened  wonderfully.  Releasing  and 
gazing  on  him  for  a  moment,  she  said  : 

''  My  dear  boy,  you  are  wonderfully  improved  in  appearance." 

By  this  time  the  room  was  thronged  with  visitors.  The  Doctors 
requested  them  to  withdraw,  in  order  that  Mrs.  Mitten  might  be  un- 
disturbed, and  if  possible,  gain  sleep. 

"  Let  William  and  Mr.  Msrkham  remain,"  said  she. 

The  rest  retired. 

"  Mr.  Markham,"  said  she,  ^'I  am  very  weak.  I  do  not  think  the 
Doctors  know  how  extremely  ill  I  am.  Be  as  you  have  been  for  a 
few  years  past,  and  as  you  would  have  ever  been  but  for  my  folly,  a 
father  to  my  boy  ;  and,  William,  ^regard  Mr.  Markham  as  your  fath- 
er, and  follow  his  counsels  in  all  things.  Mr.  Markham,  pray  with  us. 
Give  thanks  for  the  safe  return  of  my  boy,  and  that  I  have  been  per- 
mitted to  see  him  once  more  before  I  leave  the  world.  What- for- 
tune brings  him  hAne  so  suddenly  I  know  not,  but  it  is  good  for- 
tune to  me,  for  without  it  I  am  sure  I  should  never  have  seen  him 
again.  Give  me  your  hand  and  kneel,  W^illiam.  Pray,  Mr.  Mark- 
ham." 

As  they  bowed.  William  thought  of  Mr.  Markham's  parting  pray- 
er, and  the  counsels  that  preceded  it,  of  his  abuses  of  those  coun- 
sels, and  the  bitter  consequences ;  and  his  bosom  heaved  with  inde- 
scribable emotions.  His  mother  gave  his  hand  a  .quick  emphatic 
pressure  at  every  petition,  which  she  would  have  him  notici;  particu- 
larly. These  signals  of  attention  became  less  and  less  sensible  as 
the  prayer  progressed,  till  just  before  its  conclusion  they  ceased  en- 
tirely— her  grasp  relaxed,  and  her  hand  lay  motionless  and  almost 
lifeless  upon  that  of  her  son.     Mr.  Markham   and  William   rose, 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN.  227 

turned  their  eyes  to  the  gentle  puflferer,  and  saw  on  her  countenance 
every  mark  of  immediate  dissolution.  They  called  for  the  Doctors — 
they  came,  and  reached  her  bed  just  in  time  to  hear  her  last  word.s  : 

"William — meet  mo  in " 

The  sentence  was  never  finished.  The  sweetest,  the  kindest,  the 
gentlest,  the  holiest  of  the  village  was  gone  I  We  will  not  pretend 
to  describe  the  scenes  which  followed.  Iler  daughters  and  sons-in- 
law  came  but  to  pour  tears  upon  her  mortal  remains,  as  they  reposed 
in  the  coffin.  The  elder  sister  and  her  hu.sband  took  charge  of  the 
house;  the  other  two  remained  a  few  days,  and  left  for  their  resi- 
d^co.  William  took  his  room,  and  never  left  it  for  near  a  ponth, 
save  to  tread  pensively  the  walks  of  the  garden.  At  the  end  of  a 
fortnight,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  Miss  Green,  reporting  his  mother's 
death,  and  telling  her  that  she  was  the  last  and  strongest  tie  that 
bound  him  to  earth,  and  his  only  hope  of  heaven.  In  due  time  he 
received  an  answer,  expressing  the  tenderest  sympathy  for  him  in  his 
bereavement,  and  concluding  as  follows  : 

"  I  have  been  tormented  by  strange  reports  conccrniug  you  which 
I  cannot,  I  will  not  believe,  until  they  receive  some  confirmation  from 
your  own  lips.  I  will  not  aggravate  your  griefs  by  repeating  them 
now,  farther  than  just  to  say,  that  if  true,  your  last  brief  epistle  from 
Princeton  was  untrue.         With  unabated  love, 

Voru  Louisa." 

ClIAl'TKll  XX A'. 

Miss  Grekn's  letter  filled  Mitten's  bosom  with  horror.  "  What  a 
thoughtless  fool  I  was,"  said  he,  "  to  write  that  useless  lie  to  her  !  I 
ought  to  have  known  that  she  would  soon  learn  the  true  cause  of  my 
sudden  departure  from  Princeton  I  Why  did  T  not  forestall  public 
report  by  a  frank  •"♦jnfession  of  the  truth,  and  offer  such  justilications 
of  myself  as  I  could?  True  it  is,  that  when  a  man  turns  rogue,  he 
turns  fool,  and  no  less  true  is  it,  that  when  a  man  turns  liar  he  turns 
fool.  It  will  almost  take  my  life  *to  lose  Louisa;  but  1  deserve  to 
lose  her,  that  1  may  learn  what  it  is  to  have  one's  holiest  feelings  and 
brightest  hopes  trifled  with.  I  will  write  to  Louisii,  make  ^  frank 
confession  of  my  errors,  vow  an  eternal  divorce  from  them,  and  prom- 
ise to  be  anything  and  everything  that  she  would  have  me  to  be,  if 
she  will  remain  8teadfa.st  to  her  engagement."  lie  did  so,  and  in- 
deed, made  the  most  of  bLs  case  that  could  be  made  of  it.  The  an- 
swer came : 


228  MASTER   WILLIAM   MITTEN 

"  Mr.  Wjlltam  Mittin — Sir:  Your  dismissal  from  College, 
and  your  misrepresentatioa  to  me,  I  could  forgive;  but  I  never  can 
forgive  your  addresses  to  me,  while  you  were  actually  engaged  to 
Miss  Amanda  Ward.  "  Your  abused  Louisa." 

"  All  is  lost!"  exclaimed  he,  flinging  down  the  letter.  "  How  did 
she  find  out  the  engagement?  Amanda  herself  must  have  inibrra- 
ed  her  of  it."  This  was  not  true;  The  engagement  came  to  Miss 
Green's  ears  on  this  wise:  Jlitten's  attentions  to  Mis«  Ward  were 
notorious;  and  her  disrelish  for  any  society  but  his  was  equally  no- 
torious. From  these  facts,  the  inference  was  drawn  by  many  that 
they  were  engaged.  What  was  stated  at  first,  as  a  matter  of  in|pr- 
ence,  soon  began  to  be  stated  as  a  matter  of  fact.  As  it  was  contra- 
dicted by  no  one,  it  came  to  be  regarded  as  a  thing  universally  ad- 
mitted. So  Rumor  bore  it  to  Miss  Green's  ears.  The  mischievous 
jade  was  no  loss  cruel  to  Miss  W^ard  than  she  was  to  Miss  Green; 
for  she  reported  to  her  that  Mr.  Mitten  was  in  regular  correspondence 
with  Miss  Green  from  his  return  to  Princeton,  to  his  departure  for 
Georgia.  Amanda  drooped  under  the  tidings — became  sedate  and 
pensive,  gave  her  heart  to  One  who  better  deserved  it  than  hier  lover, 
fixed  her  adoration  on  the  proper  Object,  moved  among  the  poor  and 
afflicted  like  an  angel  of  mercy,  lived  to  be  universally  beloved,  kind- 
ly rejected  many  a  wooer,  and  died  smiling,  where  Mary  sat  weeping. 

The  report  went  abroad  that  William  had  broken  his  mother's 
heart.  This  was  nearly,  but  not  quite  true.  Mis.  Mitten's  health 
had  begun  to  decline  before  William's  troubles  began,  and  it  is  pro- 
bable that  she  would  not  have  survived  a  month  longer  than  she  did, 
had  William  remained  at  Princeton.  But  she  had  become  uneasy 
at  the  silence  of  his  College  companions,  concerning  him,  for  some 
months  past.  The  tone  of  his  letters  had  changed  alarmingly.  Then 
his  heavy  draft  on  her  for  money,  increased  her  alarms.  Then  the 
Sanders  draft  added  poignant  mortification  to  hf^:  distressing  fears 
and  anxieties.  All  these  things  were  wasting  her  away  rapidly, 
when  his  abrupt  appearance  to  her  filled  her  with  emotions  which 
heir  feeble  frame  could  not  endure.  His  conduct -certainly  shortened 
her  days  ;  but  it  could  not  with  propriety  be  said  that  he  broke  her 
heart.  .  Still  so  Meat  the  report,  and  it  gained  strength  from  his  re- 
marks to  the  Doctor,  which  were  overheard  by  a  visitor,  and  went 
forth  with  exaj'gei-ations.  The  consequence  was,  that  when  he  be- 
gan to  mingle  with  the  villagers,  there  was  something  so  cold  and 
distant  in  their  greetings,  so  formal  and  cautious  in  their  conversa- 
tion, that  lie  re|coiled  from  their  society,  shut  himself  up  in  his  room, 


MASTER    WILLIAM    MIITEN.  229 

brooded  over  his  misfortunes  for  a  time,  became  enraged  at  the  treat- 
ment of  his  old  friends,  and  with  a  heroism  worthy  ofa  better  cause, 
he  resolved  to  retaliate  upon  them.  He  went  forth  bold!}-  among 
them,  treated  all  coldly,  and  some  rudely ;  made  advances  to  no  one  j 
stepped  loftily  and  independently,  and  resolved  to  hold  every  man 
personally  responsible  to"  him,  who  had  taken  the  liberty  of  using 
his  name,  otherwise  than  with  the  profoundcst  respect.  The  young 
gentleman  had  undertaken  an  Herculean  task,  but  he  deemed  him- 
self  adequate  to  it,  and  acted  accordingly.  He  called  the  Doctor  to 
account  for  circulating  remarks  made  by  him  "  under  great  excite- 
ment and  distress,  which  any  man  of  common  humanity  would  never 
have,  thought  of  repeating."  Tue  Doctor  declared  that  he  never  had 
repeated  tlieni.  Mr.  Jlitten  told  him  that  "  it  was  not  worth  while 
to  add  the  sin  of  falsehood  to  the  sin  of  Jirutality,  for  no  one  else 
could  have  mentioned  tliem." 

Anderson's  remarks  also  became  town  talk,  as  soon  as  it  was  known 
that  Mitten  had  ''backed  down"  in  the  "third  heat."  Ho  went  to 
Anderson  in  a  great  rage. 

"I  understand,  sir,"  said  he,  "that  you  have  been  making  very 
free  with  my  name  in  my  absence."' 

"  No,  Billy,  I  only  said " 

"  Don't  call  me  Billy  sir "  .  .  • 

"  Well,  General   Washtn/j/ton — — '" 

"  Stop  sir  I  But  for  your  age,  I'd  give  you  a  caning.  And,  now 
listen  to  me  sir:  If  ever  I  hear  of  your  mentioning  my  name  in  any 
way,  I  shall  forget  the  respect  due  to  age,  and  give  you  a  chastising, 
let  it  cost  what  it  may.  If  ^\i  must  expend  your  race-course  wit, 
expend  it  upon  some  one  else,  not  on  me." 

"  When  you  undertake  to  chastise  me,"  said  Stewy,  "you'd  better 
appoint  your  executors  :  for  they'll  have  to  wind  up  the  business." 

Thus  Mr.  Mitten  went  on  rectifying  public  opinion,  and  purifying 
private  conversation,  until  there  were  but  five  persons  in  the  village 
or  its  vicinity  who  could  venture  to  be  upon  terms  of  intimacy  with 
him.  These  five,  two  old  men  and  three  young  one?,  conceived  a 
marvelous  attachment  to  him.  They  forced  themselves  into  his  af- 
fections by  a  thousand  kind  sayings  of  him,  and  as  many  harsh  ones 
of  all  who  kept  aloof  irom  him. 

"  Never  mind.  Mitten,"  said  one  of  the  ancients ;  "  as  soon  as  you 
get  possession  of  your  property,  these  very  men  who  aro  shying  off 
from  you  now,  and  whispering  all  sorts  of  things  about  you,  will  be 
truckling  to  you  like  hound-puppies.     They  hate  me  worse  than 

p 

0 


230  MASTER    WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

they  do  you,  just  because  I  always  take  up  for  jou.  I  see  how  tliey 
look  at  me,  every  time  tliey  see  me  with  you. '  I  despise  those  old 
mea  who  forget  that  they  were  once  youufr,  and  make  no  allowanco 
for  a  little  wildaets  in  youug  men." 

"Well,"  said  a  young  one,  "I'm  glad  to  see  Mitten's  indepen- 
dence. He  is  not  beholden  to  them  for  anything,  and"  I  like  to  see 
him  going  bis  own  way,  and  taking  care  of  himself.'' 

''Mitteu/'  said  a  third,  "we  are  going  into  Thew's  back  rooni  to 
amuso  ourselves  with  a  game  of  cards  for  an  hour  or  .so ;  where  shall 
we  find  you  when  we  come  out  ?" 

'•  Why,"  said  William,  "  I'll  go  irf  with  you.'' 

"  You'd  better  not,"  said  two  ov  three  voices  at  once.  "You 
might  be  tempted  to  play,"  said  Old  Fogy,  "  and  when  once  a  young 
man  begins  to  play  cards,  he  never  knows  where  to  stop.  Could  you 
do  as  we  do,  just  set  down  and  amuse  yourself  for  aif  hour  or  two, 
and  then  get  up  and  qait,  why  that  would  be  all  well  enough  ;  but 
young  people  are  not  like  old  folks." 

"  Well,"  contiuued  William,  "  I'll  go  in  and  see  you  play,  but  I 
will  not  play  myself,  for  I  have  suffered  enough  from  card-playing 
for  one  lifetime  I  knov/." 

"  Oh  well,  if  you'll  do  that,  no  harm  done."  ^  t 

W^illiam  went  in,  and  kept  his  word. 

The  same  f^ceue  wf.s  repeated  fur  a  number  of  days.  At  length 
William  began  to  spend  his  opinion  upon  the  play  of  one  and 
another,  dciiioDstrating  by  the  doctrine  of  chances  that  they  were 
injudicious. 

'•  Its  lucky  for  u",  Mitten,  that  youj^o'i't  pbiy,  or you'd'soon  leave 
H^  without  a  stake.  We  know  nothing  about  book-learning,  and 
just  thump  away  after  our  old  plantation  way.  Old  as  lamji'dgive 
the  world  if  I  only  had  your  education." 

Day  after  day  rolled  away  in  like  manner. 

At  length,  said  William,  ''let  mo  take  a  baud,  and  see  if  my  theo- 
ry holds  good  in  practice." 

"  Oh,  no  I"  exclaimed  half  of  them..  "  He'll  beat  us  all  to  death- 
'What  do  we  know  about  the  doctrine  of  chances  !" 

'•  Mitten,"  said  Old  Fogy,  ''don't  play.  I'm  an  pld  man,  and 
-thGUgh  I  don't  know  anything  about  chances,  I  know  that  the  cards 
•run  GO  sometimes  that  there  is  no  coifnting  on  them.  Now,  you  are  a 
high-minded,  honorable  young  man,  and  if  you  should  happen  to 
lose  largely,  you  would  be  strongly  tempted  to  refuse  to  pay,  plead 
.infancy,,  the  gaming  act,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing;  even  when  you 


MAS'rER    WILLIAM     MTFTEX.  281 

eot  able  to  pay,  nml  I  Avoultln't  lo«o  in)'  jjood  opinion  of  you  for  all 
tbe  inoney  in  the  county." 

''I  hope,  Mr.  Fogy,  you  don't  think  Yd  do  that."  , 

"  No,  1  know  you'd  die  now  before  you'd  do  it,  but  temptations  are 
hard  tbingi9  to  get  over.  I  talked  just  so  to  young  Tickler,  a.s  honor- 
able a  youug  fellow  a.s  ever  was  born,  and  vvlmt  did  he  do  ?  Why 
he  won  of  nic  day  after  day,  and  week  after  week  ;  but  when  the 
cards  took  a  turn  in  uiy  favor,  he  refused  to  pay  tl-.e  little,  nasty  sum 
of  one  thousand  dollars,  when  he  was  worth  forty  thousand.  1  never 
asked  him  for  it  till  he  got  his  prop^gty  in  hand,  and  then  he  said  I 
tempted  him  to  play  and  cheated  him,  and  I  don't  know  \7hat  all. 
I  wouldn't  have  lost  my  good  opinion  of  that  ynung  man  for  double 
the  money."      ,• 

"  Well,"  said  ^liticn..  ••  I  an^  mt  ansious  lo  play.'*'  And  he  did 
not. 

Mitteu'.s  company  and  back-room  sittings  coming  to  the  oars  of 
Mr.  Markliam,  he  warned  William  against  his  cssociates.  Ho  told 
hijii  that  they  were  a  set  of  bharpcrs  who  would  certainly  ruin  him 
if  he  did  not  abandon  them.  .       *  •       .  • 

"  Mr.  Markham,"  said  William,  "  these  are  the  only  men  of  the 
village,  (yoursielf  excepted,)  who  have  treated  me  with  any  respect 
and  kindness  ^nce  my  return  home.  You  mistake  their  character. 
They  play  cards,  it  is  true,  but  so  far  from  temptinj;  me  to  do  the 
same,  they  advise  me  not  to  do  it;  and  consequently  I  have  uot 
thrown  a  card  since  my  association  with  them.  I  should  be  au  in- 
gratc  and  a  fool  to  abandon  the  only  friends  who  stood  by  me  when 
all  tlie  rest  of  the  world  abandoned  me  " 

^Ir.  Markham  told  him  their  friendships  were  pretended,  th(^r 
prol'essious  unreal,  and  their  coun.scls  hypocritical.  In  short,  he 
used  every  argument' and  entreaty  that  he  could  to  withdraw  him 
from  these  men,  but  all  wa.s  unavailing. 

About  this  time  his  college  compauioiis  returned,  liaviug  com^ 
pleted  their  course.  Brown  hr»d  taken  the  first  lionor  in  his  class, 
and  Markham  tin;  third.  Thompson  graduated  creditably,  but  took 
no  htnor. 

The  day  after  their  ariival,  Thompson  .presented  Mitten  a  beau- 
tiful box. 

"  And  who  sends  this  'r"  said  Mitten. 

"Open  and  see,"  said  his  ccusin.  ^.^ 

He   opened    it,    and    saw   all   the  jewelry  tBul  he   had  given  to 


232  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

Amanda.     On  the  top  of  it  lay  a  small  note  of  velvet  paper  prettily 
folded.     He  opened  and  read  : 

"Let  them  follow  the  heart  of  ihe  giver. 

Amanda." 

"How  did  she  seem,  David,  when  she  handed  it  to  you  "/" 

"  Heart-broken."       ''  * 

"  Yes,  poor  girl !  Had  I  remained  true  to  her,  she  would  not  have 
forsaken  me,  as  all  my  colder  friends  have  done.  In  a  little  time, 
now,  I  could  have  made  her  comfortable  and  happy,  and  for  all  time 
she  would  have  made  me  happy." 

TeSrs  rolled  rapidly  down  his  cheeks  as  he  spoke. 

Mr,  Markham  turned  over  his  school  and  the  profits  of  it  to  his 
son  and  Brown — he  only  retaining  such  a  supervijion  over  it  as  to 
pass  it  as  his  school.  The  first  studied  medicine,  and  the  sepond 
laW;  while  teaching.  In  a  little  time  J3rown  -fixed  up  a  comfortable 
little  residence  for  his  mother,  and  furnished  it  neatly.  He  gave  his 
sisters  the  benefit  of  a  good  Female  Acadeiuy,  and  extended  their 
education  by  his  own  private  instruction.  David  Thompson  became 
the  head  of  his  father's  family,  and  trod  in  the  footsteps  of  his  father 
through  life.     William  continued  his  vnhtckt/  associations. 

One  day,  while  he  was  looking  on  at  the  game  of  his  friends : 

*'  Here,  Mitten,"  said  one  of  the  seniors,  "  play  my  hand  for  me," 
rising  and  going  out.     On  his  return  another  addressed  him,  saying  : 

"  Look  here,  old  man,  take  your  seat  there  and  play  your  own 
hand  we  can't  play  with  Mitten." 

Mitten  had  won  ten  dollars  while  representing  his  old  friend. 

"  Lord,"  said  another,  "  what  a  benefit  an  education  is  in  every- 
thing!"  ■ 

'\Villiam  no"^  proposed  to  take  a  hand  for  himself, 

"Well,"  Oiie  said,  "  we  needn't  object  on. his  account,  if  we  don't 
object  on  our  own,  for  there  is  no  danger  of  his  losing." 

William  played,  and  won  a  little.  So  did  he  for  five  or  six  sittings. 
Then  his  winnings  and  losings  began  to  balance  each  other  pretty 
equally.  Then  he  began  to  lose  regularly,  but  in  small  amounts — 
then  in  larger  amounts. 

About  this  time  Mr.  Mitten  made  divers  remarkable  discoveries^ 
to-wit:  That  whenever  he*lost,  one  of  the  old  ones  and  one  of  the 
young  ones  lost,  but  that  they  won  in  regular  succession,  so  that,  at 
the  end  of  a  week's  pla}-,  he  owed  (for  they  "  played  on  tick,")  each  of 
them  almost  exactly  the  same  amount.  Thirt  though  they  often  played 
against  all  the  doctrines  of  chances,  they  were  very  sure  to  win.     That 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MIITEN.  233 

the  youn<^  onq  would  frequently  relieve  hini?elf  from  tlic  fatigues  of 
the  game  by  pLiyiug  the  fiddle  and  walking  round  the  table,  and 
that  so  long  ae  he  played  the  fiddle,  he  (Mitten)  M^as  certain  to  losei 
That  fhe  other  two  young  ones  lost  and  won  occasionally,  but  in  the 
long  run  were  like  himself,  losers ;  and  (hat  their  losses,  like  his  own 
\?ere  the  equal  gain  of  the  other  three. 

Now  prudenco  dictated  that  he  should  quit  this  clique,  but  he 
was  largely  over  a  thousand  dollars  in  debt  to  the  trio,  and  he  could 
not  gain  his  consent  to  do  so,  until  he  recovered  his  losses.  At  a 
convenient  season  he  took  his  fellow-sufferers  aside,  informed  ihem 
of  his  discoveries,  and  proposed  to  thcni  that  they  should  play  in  co- 
partnership against  the  other  three  "  only  till  they  got  back  their 
money."  They  readily  assented  to  his  proposition,  and  William  in- 
doctrinated them  in  a  set  of  signs,  offensive  and  defensive,  that  in  a 
better  cause  would  have  immortalized  him.  Tie  cautioned  them  to 
wait  the  signal  from  him  before  they  put  any  of  their  p  ans  of  attack 
in  operation,  and  in  the  mean-tinio,  to  act  wholly  en  the  defensive. 

The  parties  met,  ami  old  Fogy  entertained  the  company  with  an 
account  of  his  early  adventures  at  the  card-table,  in  which  was  this 
passage  :  "  I  lost,  and  lost,  and  lost.  Dollar  after  dollar  went,  and 
negro  after  negro.  I  bore  it  all  like  a  man  until  I  had  to  sell  ray 
favorite  servant,  8'uion.  This  was  touch,  but  I  had  to  sacrifice 
him  or  Tiiy  honor,  so  1  let  him  go." 

The  club  took  their  scats.  Two  hours  rolled  away,  and  the  seuiors 
gained  nutliing  from  the  juniors.  The  tiddler  got  fatigu«d  and  took 
his  fiddle.  The  Juniors,  ns  if  by  accident,  hid  their  hands  every 
time  he  walked  behind  them.  He  soon  got  rested,  and  resumed  his 
Eoat.  At  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  the  Juniors  being  a  little  winners, 
Mitten  got  too  sleepy  to  set  any  longer,  and  the  game  closed.  Five 
sittings  ended  nearly  in  the  same  way  t<i  the  utter  amazement  of  the 
seniors. 

•    "  The  young  rdscals  have  found  out  our  signs,"  said  C)ld   Fogy, 
'*  we  must  make  new  ones." 

They  did  so.      Mitten  discovered  it  in  three  deals. 

"  This  is  a  piddling  sort  o'  business,"  said  Fogy  ;  "  let's  play 
higher." 

William  had  no)t  only  concerted  his  signs  in  a  masterly  manner, 
but  he  had  a  way  of  communicating  to  his  jiartners  the  most  import- 
ant signs  of  their  adversaries  as  soon  as  he  discovered  them.  While 
he  was  making  his  discoveries  his  party  lost  a  little. 

"  I  don't  like  to  raise  the  stakcH  when  I'm  losing,"  said  William, 
p* 


234  MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN. 

"but  luck  must  turn  soon,  aud  that  will  be  the  quickest  way  of  get- 
ting back  my  I'fsings,  and  I  believe  I'jri  willing  to  play  a  little- 
higher.'' 

Old  Fogy  put  up  the  stakes  very  high,  and  William  gave  the  sig- 
nal for  attack  with  all  his  armory.  In  less  than  an  hour,  the  corn 
(representing  money)  was  streaming  from  the  Fogy  party  in  a  perfect 
sluice.  Mitten  lost  to  his  partners  two  hundfed  dollars,  ^nd  the 
Fogies  lost  to  them  from  five  hundred  to  a  thousand  each.  At  one 
o'clock,  A.  M.,  Mitten  rose  from  the  table  saying  :  "That  his  brain 
was  so  addled  he  couldn't  play;  and  that  if  he  cwild,  such  a  run 
oi'  luck  would  ruiu  the  best  player  in  the  world." 

It  would  be  both  interesting  and  instructive  to  the  young,  to  trace 
Mitten's  progress  step  by  step  in  gaming,  until  he  became  a  most  ao- 
Compli.^hed  blackleg;  but  our  limits  will  not  allow  us  to  do  so.  He 
was  in  rapid  progress  to  this  distinction,  when  Miss  Flora  Summers, 
daughter  of  Col.  Mark  Hummers,  who  resided  live,  miles  from  t^e 
village,  returned  home  from  Salem,  N.  C.  She  was  an  only  child, 
handsome,  agrcenble  in  manners,  of  good  s^nse  and  well  improved 
mind.  William  visited  her,  and  so  did  John  Brown,  now  admitted 
to  the  bar  and  practising  with  brilliant  promise.  The  Colonel  re- 
ceived Brown  with  great  cordiality,  and  William  with  distant  civili- 
ty. Flora  reversed  things  exactly.  The  <]^olonel  was  not  surprised 
at  her  preference,  but  before  it  had  time  to  ripen  into  love,  he  thua 
addressed  her :  "  My  daughter,  it  may  be  that  Mitten  and  Brown 
will  become  suitors  of  yours.  J.  do  not  say  to  you,  in  that  event 
marry  Brown,  but  I  do  say  to  you  do  not  marry  Mitten,  if  you  would 
.save  yourself  and  me  fi'om  misery  intolerable.  You  know  his  his- 
tory in  part.  If  he  did  not  break  his  mother's  Ijcart,  be- hastened 
her  death.  iJe  has  rendered  himself  odious  to  all  good  men,  and 
become  the  associate  of  gamblers.  And  yet  1ft  is  a  yoyng  man  of 
handsome  pcr.'on,  iine  address  and  fine  talents.  Those  endowments 
are  apt  to  win  upon  a  girl's  heart;  but  surely  my  daughter  can  for- 
tify her  heart  against  dangerous  impressions  from  such  a  mau  aa 
Mitten." 

"•Yes,  Pa,"  said  Flora,  "I  can  and  will.  I  assure  you  that  I 
will  never  give, ray  hand  to  William." 

'•  Then,  without  feigning  an  attachment  that  you  do  not  feel,  give 
him  the  earliest  opportunity  of  declaring  himself,  and  let  your  refusal 
be  respectful  but  decisive." 

"  I  will.  It  will  cost  me  no  difficulty  to  refuse  Mitten  ;  but  I 
don't  think  T  ever  can  love  John  Brown.  Dear  me,  Pa,  he  is  80 
ugly  I" 


MASTER   WILLIAM   MITl'EN.  235 

"Well,  uiy  child,  be  that  as  you  would  have  it.  1  certainly  shall 
not  urgc^you  to  have  Brown  or  any  body  else.  Your  choice  will  be 
mine,  provided  your  choice  does  not  light  upon  one  of  despicable 
eharacter." 

Mitten  lepeated  his-  visits,  and  was  received  more  wariuly  1»y  the 
Colonel  than  at  first.  In  process  of  time  he  declared  himself  and 
wa.s  positively  vojected.  Brown  continued  his  visits  too,  but  at  much 
longer  intervals.  His  fame  in  the  mean  time  was  constantly  growing. 
His  manners  we're  ntjt  wanting  in  polish,  and  in  intellectual  endow- 
ments he  now  far  outstripped  Mitten.  His  visits  for  five  or  n\x 
month.*?  seemed  only  of  a  fiiendly  eharacter.  He  read  well  and  talked 
well,  and  was  both  a  wit  and  hnmori.«t;  but  he  ncter  wounded  by 
his  sallies.  I'lora  soon  became  satisfied  that  John  had  no  idea  of 
courting  her,  and  she  threw  oflF  all  shyness  and  came  upon  terms  of 
easy  and  ngrceablo  familiarity  with  him.  John  ^poke  freely  and 
playfully  of  his  own  homeliness  ;  told  amusing  anecdotes  about  it, 
and  spoke  of  it  in  such  ways  as  made  Flora  laugh  heartily.  A. 'single 
example :  After  they  liad  become  as  intimate  as  brother  nnd  sister, 
there  was  a  pause  in  the  conversation  one  day,  and  John  alter  a  deep 
sigh  said,  "  Well,  f'd  give  a  thousand  dollars  just  to  know  for  one 
hour  how  an  ugly  man  feels."  Flora  laughed  immoderately.  "  Well, 
John,"  said  she,  "I  think  you  might  for  a  dollar  know  hov  such  an 
one  feels  for  a  life  time."  Then  John  roared.  Thus  matters  went 
on  until  Flora  began  to  Icel  that  John'.i  society  was  a  very  import- 
ant item  in  her  life  of  single  blessedness.  8he  met  him  'with  smiles 
and  parted  with  him^ — not  exactly  in  sadness,  but  with  an  expression 
of  countenance  and  •' good-bye,"  which  seemed  to  say,  "  John,  it's 
hard  to  part  with  you,  you  pleasant,  ugly  dog." 

Still  John  never  whispered  love,  while  everybody  spoke  hi.^  pr.iiscs. 
.Vbout  this  time  Col.  Summers  got  into  a  lawsuit,  that  alarmed  him 
greatly.  He  employed  Drown,  who  dispo.sed  of  it,  on  demurrer,  at 
the  first  term  of  the  court.  At  his  next  visit  to  Flora,  she  expressed 
her  gratitude  to  him  very  tenderly,  and  added,  ''John,  I  hope  some 
day  or  other  we  will  bu  able  to  repay  tho  obligation  that  we  are  un- 
der to  you." 

"  Why,  Miss  Flora,  said  John,  "  it's  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world 
for  you  to  cancel  the  obligation  and  make  nie  tho  willing  servant  of 
you  both " 

"How,  John?" 

"  Why  just  let  your  lather  give  his  daughter  to  me,  and  you  ratify 
the  gift," 


286  MASTEll   WILLIAM   MITPEN. 

Flora  looked  at  him  and  blushed,  and  smiled,  looked  seriou?  and 
said :  , 

"  Are  you  in  earnest,  John  ?'' 

"  in  just  as  sober  earnest  as  if  I  were  preaching." 

"John,  I  don't  believe  you  love  me." 

'•  Yes,  I  do.  Miss  Flora,  as  ardently  as  ever  man  loved  woman,  but 
until  recently  I  believed  my  love  was  hopeless,  and  therefore  I  con- 
cealed it,  or  tried  to  conceal  it,  for  I  know  you  often  saw  it." 

"  Why,  John,  you  astonisji  me.  I — Gro,  ask  Pa,  and  if  he  gives  me 
to  you,  I'll  ratify  the  gift.  I  might  get  a  handsomer  man,  but  I 
never  could  get  a  more  worthy  one." 

"As  to  my  beauty,"  said  John,  ''why  that's  neither  here  aor 
there.  One  thing  is  certain  about  it,  and  that  is,  that  it  will  never 
fade." 

"  Well,  John,  it"  we  live  ten  years  longer,  I  am  sure  i  shall  think 
you  handsome ;  for  your  features  have  been  growing  more  and  more 
agreeable  to  mc,  ever  since  you  began  to  visit  me." 

"  Well,  Miss  Flora,  if  they  are  agreeable  (o  yon — toleraJAe  to  you, 
it  is  a  matter  of  perfect  iiidilforence  to  me  Avhat  any  one  else  thinks 
of  them.  Another  great  advantage  you  will  have  in  marrying  a 
homely  m.Tn,  and  that  is,  you  will  not  be  exposed  to  the  common  tor- 
ments of  tlie  wives  of  handsome  men." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,  John.  Splendid  talents,  renown  and 
fascinating  manners  are  much  more  apt  to  win  the  admiration  of  our 
sex  than  a  pretty  face.  ' 

•'  If  you  see  all  these  things  in  rac,  Flora^jyou  see. more  than  I  have 
ever  seen.  As  3'ou  are  getting  in  a  complimentary  strain,  I'll  thank 
you  to  a.^k  your  father  in;  for  though  I  bear  compliments  with  great 
Ibrtitudc,  they  ruways  embarrass  men,  and  when  coming  from  you, 
they  give  uic  a  peculiar  drawing  to  the  lips  that  utter  them." 

"  Well,  how  do  you  know  but  they  would  bear  the  drawing  with 
great  fortitude,  too  T'  So  saying,  she  bounced  to  her  room  and  left 
him  alone,  saying  as  she  flitted  away,  ''  I'll  send  my  fecher  to  you 
and  UsUn  how  you  draw  to  each  other." 

T^e  Colonel  soon  made  his  appearance. 

John  looked  at  the  Colonel,  put  his  right  leg  over  his  left,  took  it 
down  again  and  patted  his  foot.     The  Colonel  took  a  chew  of  tobac. 
CO,  cleared  his  throat  and  looked  at  John.     John  cleared  his  throat 
too,  coughed  twice,  blew  his  nose  and  looked  at  the  carpet.     "  John, 
said  the  Colonel,  "  Flora  said  you  wished  to  see  me." 

'•  Yes.  sir,"   said  John,    "I  have  long  had  a  warm  attachment  CO 


MASTER  WILLIAM   MITTEN.  237 

j'our  daugbtev— and  I  thought  if  I  could  gain  your  »sseut  to  address 
her " 

"To  uddresx  her!  Why,  she  says  you  arc  engaged,  and  only 
want  my  consent  to  get  married.  If  that  is  the  case,  you  have  my 
consent  freelj^.  There  is  not  a  man  in  the  world  that  I  would  prefer 
to  you  for  my  daughter."'     So  saying,  he  retired. 

Flora  immediately  re-entered,  laughing  immoderately.  '•  \\'eli 
John,"  said  she,  "T  don't  think  you  had  much  of  a  ^  draiving^  to 
Pa." 

"  Confound  this  asking  lor  daughters  I"  said  John,  "  I'd  rather 
ask  forty  girls  tu  marry  me,  than  one  father  for  his  daughter.  I 
never  acted  lice  such  a  fool  in  all  my  life  I"  Three  weeks  froiu  this 
date,  John  Brown  and  Flora  Summers  became  one.  and  remained 
one  in  the  best  .-ipuse  oi'  the  term,  through- life. 

Mitten  surrendered  himself  to  cards  ;  distinguished  himself  among 
gamblers  for  his  shrewdness,  and  actually  made  money  by  his  calling, 
until  he  was  arrested  in  his  career  by  that  disease  so  common  to 
gamblers,  and  so  fatal  to  all,  consumption.  AVhen  he  found  the  di- 
sease fastened  incurably. upon  hini;  he  took  his  room,  his  mother's 
bed  room.  The  old  family  IJiblc  was  there.  Sbe  had  often  said, 
that  at  her  death  .«he  wished  it  to  go  to  William,  and  there  it  was  left 
for  him..  He  opcnrd  it.  found  in  it  many  traces  of  his  mother's  pen, 
scraps  of  paper  with  tests  of  scripture,  holy  rcsolutiohs,  prayers, 
Christian  cousolation.«,^and  the  like,  written  on  them,  lie  closed  the 
book,  pressed  it  to  his  bosom,  and  wept  bitterly.  "  Dearest,  best 
of  women  I"  .soliloquized  he.  ''  What  a  curse  have  I  been  to 
thee  I    what  a   curse   have   I    been   to    myself!     One   fault   thou 

had.st,   and    only   one No,    I  must   uot   call   it   a  favlt — one 

uealcness  shall  I  call  it  ?  No,  that  is  too  harsh  a  term  for  it.  One 
iieavenly  virtue  in  excess,  thou  hadst  too  much  tendertiess  for  thy 
son.  Btit  why  do  I  advert  to  this  I  When  1  reached  the  age  of 
reflection  and  .self-government,  this  very  thing  should  have  en- 
deared thee  the  more  to  me — should  have  made  me  more  re- 
solute ifjkcfonuiiig  tlie  errors,  which  thy  excessive  kindness  pro- 
duced, ^ut  oh,  how  impotent  arc  human  resolutions  against  vices 
.which  ha.'c  become  constitutional !     Tonj,  so  for  Mr.  Markhani.'' 

Mr.  Markham  came,  and  found  William  with  his  head  on  his 
mother's  Bible,  bedewing  it  with  tears.  lie  raised  his  head,  reached 
his  hot  hand  to  his  friend,  and  after  some  struggles  for  utterance, 
.said  :  ■  '  ^ 

**  Mr.  Markham,  you  have  known  me  from   my   childhood  to  the 


238  MACTER  WILLIAM  MITTEN. 

present  luoDient,  you  have  marked  my  every  step  in  the  pathway  of 
ruin — you  have  f^cen  me  abuse  and  torture  the  best  of  mother?,  re-' 
ject  the  counsels  of  the  best  of  uncles,  a  ad  the  best  of  friends,  mul- 
tiplying sins  to  cover  sins,  insulting  men  for  disapproving  of  what 
my  own  conscience  disapproved,  aveiding  the  good,  and  consorting 
with  the  depraved,  prostituting  heaven's  best  gifts  to  earth's  worst 
purposes — in  short,  assimilating  myself  to  a  deyil,  as  far  as  it  was 
possible  for  me  to  do  so  ;  now  toll  me,  ray  dear  friend,  do  you  think 
•  it  possible  for  such  an  abandoned  wretch  as  I  am  to  find  mercy  in 
heaven  ?  In  making  up  your  .answer,  remember  that  I  never  thought 
of  asking  mercy,  and  probably  never  should  have  thought  of  it, 
had  I  not  seen  Death  approaching  jue  witli  sure,  unerrnig  step." 

"  Oh  yes/'  said  Mr.  Markham,  '"you  are  not  beyond  the  reach  of 
mercy  ;  provided  you  seekit  in  the  wa^'of  God's  appointment."* 

"  J^e  pleased  to  in.struct  me  in  that  way  ;,  for  1  am  lamentably  de- 
licient  in  knowledge  of  the  -Bible" 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place,  you  cann»t  expect  mercy  unless  yon  ask 
,  for  it.  If  you  ask  for  it  you  cannot  expect  to,  have  your  request 
granted,  unless  you  perform  the  conditions  upon  which  such  request 
is  to  be  granted.  Now  these  congiitions  are  (the  essential  cues,) 
that  you  show  mercy  to  every  human  being  that  has  offended 
you " 

"  That  is  hut  reasonable.'' 

You  must  freely,  and  from  your  heart  forgive  every  one  who 
has  trespassed  against  you.     You  remember  your  infantile  prayer." 

'•Yes,  but  I  never  understood  it  until  this  moment." 

"■  You  must  seek  to  be  reconciled  to  everyone  who  has  aught  against 
you." 

'•'  The  harderst  condition  of  all.  ]  can  forgive  those  who  have  in- 
jured me;  but  how  shall  I  ask  peace  of  those  whom  I  never 
jwronged'i'" 

<-  (,Jod  never  wronged  you,  did  He  't  .\nd  yet  He  asks  you  to  be 
reconciled  to  hiui." 

''Wonderful  I,'  ejaculated  William,  thoughtfully. 

•'•  You  would  not  come  to  me,  William,  and  ask  a  favor  of  me,  and 
at  the  same  time  say,  .'I  ask  it,  but  I  do  not  believe  you  will  grant 
it,'   would  you  T' 

"No,  that  would' be  to  insult  you  to  your  face." 

'<  Neither  must  you  ask  favors  wf  God,  believing  that  He  -nrill  not 
VaJit  them.     You  must  ask,  believing  in  His  goodness,   His  word, 
aud  His  promises,  i.  e.,  you  must  ask  in.faith. 
"Perfectly  ju.st!" 


MASTER   WILLIAM    WITTKN. 


Oi>( 


'•  If  you  were  to  ask  ;i  favor  of  nic,  and  I  should  ^ny  come,  aj^aiii, 
I  caunot  grant  it  ju,«t  no^;  would  you  turn  away  from  rac  in  despair, 
and  never  ask  me  again  \"  f 

"  Sure!}'  not."  ' 

"  Then  do  not  show  less  confidence  in  Clod  than  you  have  in  nu;.. 
If  he  docs  not  answer  your  prayers  as  !^oon  a.s  you  cxpecl,  pr;ij  on 
and  bide  Ilis  time." 

"  Well,  Cfcd  helping  mc,  1  will  follow  your  counsels  tfiis  tini*-, 
to  the  day  of  my  death.  Pray  ouce  more  for  me,  thou  heaven-born 
and  heaven-directed  man." 

Mr.  Markham  prayed  with  him,  as  if  his  "  lips  wore  touched 
with  a  live  coal  from  off  the  altar." 

William,  now  gave  himself  to  prayer  and  reading  the  scriptures. 
He  sent  for  all  within  his  reach  whom  he  had  offended,  or  who  had 
offended  him.  Freely  forgave,  and  was  freely  forgiven  Twq,  three, 
and  four  months  the  disease  spared  him-  but  he  found  little  com- 
fort. At  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  he  found  peace  ;  rejoiced  for  a 
month  more,  preached  powerfully  to  all  who  came  to  his  bedside,  and 
with  his  last  breath  cried,  •'  Mother,  receive  thy  sou  I"  and  died. 


